


If It Means A Lot To You

by themasqueraded



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themasqueraded/pseuds/themasqueraded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20 year old Harry works at one of the best hospitals of London and he's got his whole life figured out. It all works out until a beautiful, injured boy comes along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It Means A Lot To You

There is nothing more important to Harry than his future. It’s not like he’s worried about whether it’s going to work out as he has planned it to, or not. He knows it is. He has known his future since his father told him he would be a good doctor. He studied medicine at college, and now he’s working as an intern at King’s Mill Hospital, one of the best hospitals in London.

He couldn’t ask for a better life. He has two amazing best friends, except for the fact that they´re not amazing at all. He met Liam and Niall the first day of their internship at the hospital and they have been mates since. If someone asked him straightforward why he is best friends with them, he definitely would not have an answer for that. Maybe it is because there were no other approachable interns at the moment, or maybe because he was in desperate need of a friend and he found two of them on his first day here, so he really couldn’t say no to that.

Harry finds himself with a warm mug full of coffee in his hands and Dr. Davis in front of him giving instructions to each of his fellow interns.

“Evans, you’re on vaccinations today. Horan and Payne, you’re on surgery.” Liam and Niall exchange pleased looks. “Styles, there’s a patient in need. Room 267, go.”

Reluctantly, Harry heads to the lift. He wanted to be in surgery today so bad. At least he’s not stuck in vaccinations; that’s the worse part of the job. He likes taking care of patients; it gives him a sense of control over them.

When he gets to the Room 267, he knocks softly. A nurse opens the door, gives him a quick smile and leaves the room. He walks in with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. “Hello, I’m Dr. Styles, and I will be your doctor today. What’s your – “

He lifts his gaze to find a young boy staring back at him, with a slight grin on his face and his blue eyes huge. He is sitting on a bed, with his back on the wall of the room. Harry looks at him for a moment; he has really delicate features, and his hair looks so soft, he just wants to run his hands through it.

“Uh,” He hesitates. “Why are you here today?” He asks conscious that his voice is shaking.

“I was skateboarding on top of a roof.” He says brightly. “And I fell over. I think I hurt my leg.” He says it in such a simple way; it’s hard for Harry to think he is actually hurting.

“Okay,” He walks over to the bed, and starts examining the boy’s leg. “What’s your name?”

“Louis.” The boy smiles up at him. “Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry is feeling rather intimidated by this guy. He is wearing short chinos and a grey tanktop that make the tattoos on his arms visible. Harry swallows hard.

“Okay Louis, tell me if this hurts.” He presses his hand on the boy’s knee, and he flinches. “And this?” He does the same on his tibia, and he flinches again.

“Louis, your might have broken your _lateral_ _tibia condyle_ , now – “

“That means my leg, right?” Louis cuts him off.

Harry smiles. “Yes, that means your leg.” He looks at him in the eye. “Is any other part of your body hurting?”

Louis takes a moment to reply. “My hand and my head. But I think the head is just because of the hangover.” He says, and Harry can definitely tell that he was looking for some sort of reaction from him.

“We’re going to have to make an X-ray examination on both, your leg and your hand. The results will come out tomorrow, but it would be best if you stayed here. As I said before, your leg might be broken.” Louis nodded slowly. “Oh, and this headache, is it bad?”

“Uh, not really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay. Just let me know if it gets worse. I’ll be right back to take you to the X-rays room.” And with a short smile, he walks out the room before the older boy can say anything else.

Harry sighs and heads to the main desk of the floor. “Can I have an authorization to the X-rays room, please?” He leans on the bureau and waits for the girl to hand him the keys. He mumbles a ‘thanks’ when she does and walks back to Louis’s room.

He knocks softly on the door and doesn’t wait for an answer. He enters the room to find Louis sitting on the bed just as he had left him and another boy of about his age sitting on the visitor’s room, looking at his phone and then back at him. His skin is quite tanned, and his eyes are big, with a tone of hazel in them. His eyebrows are thick and his cheekbones and jaw make his face look slim. He is wearing an outfit pretty much the same as Louis’s one.

“Dr. Styles, this is Zayn, my best mate. Zayn, this is my doctor, whose name I don’t know yet.” He introduces each other with a wink at Harry. The boy called Zayn stands up and shakes Harry’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Styles.” He says with an odd grin on his face and Harry only nods.

It’s not very often that your patient’s best mate is the only one visiting a young guy. And it’s even less often that your patient introduces you to his best mate in such _manners_.

After a few silent seconds, Harry looks at his clipboard for no reason whatsoever. “The X-ray room’s ready. I’ll help you to the wheel chair. C’mon.” He says a little bit awkwardly.

He opens the doors of a small closet and takes out the wheel chair. He fixes it and rolls it until it’s next to the bed. He kneels next to Louis to help him up, and a wave of cologne hits him instantly. It’s not a manly cologne, really, it smells more like fruits. He lifts his gaze up and finds Louis staring down at him expectantly. “Um,” Harry tries to find a way to help the boy of the bed, and he’s never felt more stupid in his entire life.

“Can you lift me?” Louis asks in a serious tone.

“Yeah, sure.” Harry prays to any god out there to give him the strength to carry the boy. He’s not exactly scrawny, but he’s not brawny either. And he most certainly lacks a lot of motor skills.

Louis lifts his torso from the bed and gives Harry space to put both his arms around his waist. The older boy is not precisely frivolous, and it takes Harry quite a lot of effort to carry him to the wheel chair. But he does, and he feels somewhat proud about it.

“Can Zayn come with me?” Louis asks when he is settled on the wheel chair, his tone is sort of childish, and Harry just shrugs.

Then he figures he might be coming off as mean. No one likes a mean doctor. So he says, “Sure, why not?” With the best smile he can give him.

“Unless,” Louis says quite unexpectedly “You want to be left alone with me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and Harry is so taken aback, that he just manages to chuckle lamely.  

He doesn’t know why, but it feels like the boy is _flirting_ with him. He pushes the thought away because, really, what a stupid thing to think.

He wishes Liam was there with him, to make some funny comment at that and leave the room carelessly. Or Niall, who would just reply with the same flirty tone and befriend Zayn in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, he’s on his own in this one, and he can’t do anything else than gesture them to follow him. Louis’s friend takes both of the handles of the wheel chair and starts pushing him along.

He walks quietly down the familiar aisle, until the boy – was it Zack? Or Zayn? Yeah, it was Zayn – hurries his pace and is soon walking right next to him. Harry figures he should say something, so he comes up with the most logical question at the moment.

“So may I ask,” He looks at Zayn, “Why the hell was your friend skateboarding on a rooftop?” And even though he feels a little guilty about the swearing, the other boy just smirks.

“We were just trying to piss off a neighbor, really.” He shrugs. Harry laughs at this.

“Creative way, isn’t it?” He surprises himself saying. Yes, he is a very awkward person.

Both of the boys chuckle appreciatively. “Indeed.” Louis says softly, and that’s when Harry realizes that his voice is so fragile, and soft, even if he makes it sound dominant, it really, really isn’t.

When they get to the X-rays room, Harry leads Louis into it. “I’m afraid you have to take off your clothes, and put this wardrobe on. Do you need…” He stops himself, feeling his cheeks flush red. “H-help?” He stutters.

Louis smiles at him so confidently, and damn it, Harry hates it. He hates feeling so submissive over other people. “Yeah, that’d be nice, thank you.” He says in the same soft voice.

Harry doesn’t really know if he was hoping Louis would say yes or no, but now, he regrets ever offering help. What is it about this boy that makes him so nervous?

“Okay,” He says softly. “So, can you lift your arms, or?”

“Yeah, I think so.” And he lifts them, though he winces a little and Harry can tell it’s his right arm.

“Don’t strain yourself, though.” He says calmly. When Louis has his arms raised, Harry looks at him as if asking for permission. “Is- is this okay?”

“Of course, yeah. Go ahead.” He smirks and Harry kind of smiles back, but he is aware he probably looms like a scared son of a-

“How long are you going to take?” He hears a voice say, and he turns around to see Zayn poking his head in the room.

“Um, about 10 or 20 minutes?” Harry says over his shoulder.

“Can I go explore this place?” He asks.

“Sure, just… don’t get into trouble.” He says a little too authoritatively. “Please.” He adds and both of the other boys laugh.

Harry smiles at Zayn, and seriously, what is it with these boys?

“I’ll be right back, Lou!” He hears Zayn shout when he’s already out the door.

Harry turns towards Louis and notices that his arms are still up. “Okay, tell me if I’m hurting you.” He grabs Louis’s bottom part of the shirt and pulls it upwards. While doing it, he can’t help but notice the boy’s chest covered in tattoos, and his dick definitely does not twitch at that.

When the shirt is completely off, Louis looks at Harry and apparently sees the growing blush on his cheeks, because he smirks and says, “I know, I’m hot.”

 

***

 

The next day, Harry walks into the Room 267 without knocking. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he should have knocked, he realizes a few seconds later, when he finds Louis sitting on the same bed as yesterday, only a blonde girl is lying next to him, with her head resting on his shoulder. Harry considers leaving the room and coming back later, but Louis has already seen him.

“Hello, Dr. Styles!” He says brightly.

“Um, hi Louis.” Harry smiles, avoiding any other eyes on the room.

Louis straightens up and looks at him for a moment.

“This is my sister, Lottie.” He jerks his head towards the blond girl, who looks at Harry sheepishly.

“Hi.” Harry says quietly.

“Hi.” Lottie answers with a soft smile. She’s pretty, but there’s something off with her face. She’s wearing too much make-up, and the soft features that make Louis’s face so beautiful are absent on hers.

Harry looks around and sees Zayn sitting on the chair next to the bed with a book in hand. He’s wearing pretty much the same outfit as the day before, only this time he’s got glasses on, which make his face look even more handsome.

Zayn lifts his gaze from the book for a moment and smiles gently at Harry. “Hey, Doc.” He greets, waving his hand weakly.

“Hey, Zayn.” Harry returns the smile, and notices that Zayn looks just a little surprised that Harry remembers his name. “Still here, are you?” He says after a moment.

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave this angel alone.” He says with a mock sweet tone, to which Louis and Harry laugh.

“So how was your night, Louis? Is your headache gone?” Harry turns to Louis, looking down at his clipboard first. It’s not really necessary, but it has become a habit.

“It was wonderful,” He says instantly. “Wonderful, as in ‘I hurt my leg while I was sleeping, so I couldn’t sleep any longer and now it’s hurting like a bitch and no my headache is not gone at all and I’m starting to think it’s not because of the hangover unless someone spilled alcohol into my mouth without my noticing.’” He doesn’t stop to take a breath.

Harry opens his mouth, both surprised and amused, though he tries to hide the latter.

“Oh,” Is all he manages to say at first, but when Louis gives him a pointed look, he looks down at his clipboard; he really needs to stop that, and back at the older boy. “Well, I have good news for you then. Your x-rays are ready and so is the plaster cast for your leg and your hand.” He says too fast for his liking.

“What?” Louis half says, half shouts. “So my hand is also broken?”

“No, but it is fractured.” Harry says simply.

Louis looks like he’s in a good mood, and his voice isn’t exasperated or any of the kind. But, to Harry, it looks like he is faking the whole thing, and he wants people to notice by the way he’s talking. A strange kid, he is.

“And we’re going to have to do something about that headache too.” Harry informs them, since they’re all looking at him somewhat expectantly. “Not after we get the casts put, though.”

“Okay,” Louis says slowly. “Might as well have died in that accident.” He says in a bitter tone. Zayn doesn’t laugh, but Lottie does. Harry just looks at him for a moment, and then breaks the eye contact quickly.

“I’ll be right back with some nurses to help put the casts on, okay?” He asks as he heads to the door.

“Right,” Louis answers dismissively, but just as Harry is closing the door, he adds, “Thank you, Harry!” And all the way down the aisle of rooms, Harry does nothing else than wonder how on earth does he know his name.

 

***

 

“And then he called me by my name, sounding all nice and warm. I’m telling you, this guy is something else.” Harry is telling Liam and Niall on their lunch break.

“Is anyone else with him? Like visiting him or whatever?” Liam asks thoughtful.

“Yeah, his friend Zayn and his sister.” Liam starts as soon as he hears it.

“Did you say Zayn?” Harry nods. “Is he a tall, tanned guy with, like, the look of a freaking model?” He asks.

“Um, maybe?”

Niall looks up from his food. “Why, do you know him?” He asks, his mouth full of cereal.

“Niall, who the hell eats cereal for lunch?” Harry changes the subject for a second. But, seriously, why are these guys his best friends?

“Yes, I know him.” Liam ignores the intervention. “I was walking out of surgery yesterday and I bumped into him.” He looks thoughtful for a second.

“And?” Niall asks expectantly.

“We chatted for some minutes and he was sort of nice, until he started being an ass, so I kicked him out of the floor.” Liam says simply, yet his expression has some kind of amusement behind it.

Harry expected something more of the story, so he just eats the last bit of muffin and stands up. “Whatever, I’ll head back to my patient.” He announces it and just as he’s leaving, Niall calls him and says as quietly as he can:

“I hope you have rough sex with him.” And he and Liam start laughing maniac-like. Harry rolls his eyes and leaves.

When he gets to Room 267 he finds Louis alone, lying on the bed with a dramatically bored expression.

“Hey, Louis.” He says, once again looking down at his clipboard.

“Help.” Louis puts his uninjured hand on his forehead. “I think boredom is my greatest disease. If you don’t get rid of it soon, this room will be occupied by somebody else when you come back.” He moans, his hand still on his forehead and a slight smirk behind the dramatic face.

“Quite dramatic, are we?” Harry laughs, walking towards the other boy. Louis straightens his face and struggles to sit up.

“You’re not helping.” He snaps as he looks for something.

“I’m sorry. Sir, would you like something to get rid of your boredom? I’m pretty sure we’re full of that medicine in the storeroom.” Harry plays along, God knows why.

Louis smirks, and it seems to Harry that the older boy is either, extremely outgoing and careless or he has developed some sort of weird closeness with him. He doesn’t really know which one’s better. Or worse.

“Oh, a person like _me_ needs more than medicine.” Louis says matter-of-factly.

“Then, whatever do you need?” Harry asks mock politely.

“I need you.” Louis says simply.

Harry stops dead, because he may have jerked off at the thought of this boy last night. He may have thought of him telling him exactly this just before he came. He feels his cheek blushing bright red, but thankfully Louis doesn’t seem to notice.

“Are you busy?” He asks innocently.

“Uh,” Harry’s mind has gone blank. Was he supposed to do anything else than take care of Louis? “I don’t know. I could ask…” He offers, hating himself.

He really should get away from this boy, because 21 year olds wearing what he was wearing when he first came, and flirting the way he does, and hanging out with friends like Zayn are not exactly what Harry needs in his life. Louis Tomlinson is a player and Harry figured that out when they were in the x-rays room.

Harry, on the other hand, is a fool when it comes to love. Well, according to Liam and Niall, he’s a fool when it comes to everything, but you get the point.

He should just ask Dr. Davis to change his task. He could go to vaccinations if it’s necessary. Anything to avoid that feeling of constant fear that anything might end up wrong, and he might end up feeling something for this guy, and then end up hurt.

Louis’s face lights up. “Please do.” He says cheerfully.

“I’ll be right back.” Harry mumbles. The worst part is that he _wants_ to be the object of amusement for Louis. He _wants_ to stay in that room and be with him until he’s not bored anymore.

He walks slowly towards the desk and asks the girl where Dr. Davis is. She says he’s in Room 289, so he heads over there. He has no idea what he is going to ask his boss, but he knocks on the door anyway.

Dr. Davis looks busy, and Harry immediately regrets it. His boss closes the door behind him after Harry enters the room, frowning him.

“Um, Dr. Davis is there something else I can do?” Harry says stupidly.

Dr. Davis’s frown deepens. “You’re supposed to be attending the patient in Room 267, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” He doesn’t find anything else to say.

“Then go!” He barks, and Harry just mumbles a reply and walks quickly back to the main desk. That was a bad idea, he thinks as he opens the door to Louis’s room.

“What happened?” Louis asks hopefully, raising his head from the awkward position he’s sitting, or lying, and looking at Harry.

“Uh,” He thinks. “Yeah, I guess I can stay for a while.” He smiles and Louis sits up.

“Oh, thank God. Is there something more boring that hospitals?” He asks.

“Church?” Harry suggests.

“It was a rhetorical question, but yeah, I guess church’s more boring.” He laughs.

“So, what can I do for you?” Harry asks happily.

“That sounds tentative.” Louis raises his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry blushes furiously, not finding a reply to that.

“Well, we could watch a movie. Zayn brought a bunch.” He points at the closet.

“Okay. Which one do you want to watch?” Harry asks opening the doors of the closet and looking at Louis over his shoulder.

“I don’t know. Some comedy, or terror.” Louis waves a hand dismissively.

Harry peeks through the movies. He doesn’t recognize any so he just takes some creepy looking one and hands it to Louis for approval, who nods eagerly, smiling like a child on Christmas.

Harry places it on the DVD, he takes the chair next to the bed and sits on it. He’s relatively close to Louis. Their hands are so close they could touch. Harry stares at them for a second, before focusing on the movie.

It turns out the movie is as scary as the name means it to be. Louis screams every time something unexpected happens, while Harry just gasps. It’s quite a good movie and Harry finds himself so into it that he doesn’t even notice when Louis reaches out for his own hand when the little girl from the movie is doing something grotesque to the older woman. They both grimace at the screen and Louis squeezes Harry’s hand. It is pretty gross, but Harry has got this warm feeling on his stomach when Louis doesn’t let go.

When they’re close to the end of the movie, something so terrifying happens that even Harry screams, and they squeeze each other’s hands. Finally, when the credits are playing, Louis lets go of Harry’s hand and Harry instantly feels the cold air and misses the older boy’s hand.

“Well, that was a good choice, Harold. I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Thanks a lot.” He says it in a mocking tone and Harry laughs.

“Well, you’re not the only one. I won’t be able to close my eyes without picturing that creepy girl.” They both laugh nervously at that.

Harry looks at Louis, who has obviously been sweating, because his messy hair is now pasted on his forehead. He looks so incredibly beautiful, with his eyes still wide and lips slightly parted.

“Was it helpful, though?” Harry asks seconds later.

Louis smiles at him, and his eyes crinkle a little, and Harry feels unable to stop staring. “Yeah, you’re a good medicine.” He says softly.

“That’s probably the best compliment someone’s ever said to me.” Harry says in an attempt to be funny, but Louis looks at him in the eye.

“That should definitely not be the best compliment you have ever got.” He says seriously. “Definitely.”

Harry turns toward the television to hide the blush on his cheeks. He looks at his watch when he turns around and it’s later than he thought it would be. “Um, I should probably get going.” He says avoiding eye contact.

“Sure. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Louis puts his head on the pillow, with his body curled up in a ball under the blankets. 

“You will.” Harry smiles, but he doesn’t think Louis hears him, because he hears a soft noise indicating that the older boy’s asleep.

He closes the door quietly and turns around to find this part of the hospital unusually empty. It’s eleven pm, so he decides to go home.

Fortunately, he’s one of the interns that have been here long enough, they don’t have to do that thing of staying 48 hours straight in the hospital in case some emergency occurs. So he walks to the parking lot replaying the scene in his head. Even though it was really irrelevant, and a normal person wouldn’t feel so happy about someone holding their hand, Harry feels something in his stomach when he remembers the feeling of Louis’s small, soft, warm hands on his. And no, that’s definitely not butterflies what he feels.

 

***

 

Harry’s sitting on his couch, sleep taking over him, when the call comes. It’s one of the girls from the desk, whose name he doesn`t know. He doesn’t tell him what’s happening; she only tells him that they need him in the hospital right away.

Harry looks at his watch. It’s 12:30 pm. He slowly gets up, changes his clothes, grabs the keys of the house and goes out. The hospital is about ten minutes away walking, but he figures if they call him it’s because they really, really need him, so he calls a cab.

What could be wrong? He’s not in charge of anything else than Louis at the moment. For some odd reason, Dr. Davis likes him more than he likes other interns and he doesn’t have it as hard as others.

There are only two things that could have possibly happened that would require his help. One that there’s like a big accident with a bunch of people involved in it and they need more doctors.  And two; that something wrong happened with Louis. And after a few seconds, there’s a third. One time, Niall paid one of the girls of the desk to call him at 2pm and say there’s an emergency. When he got there, Liam and Niall were lying on a patient bed just in the entrance of the hospital cackling.

When they arrive to the hospital, Harry hands the cab driver the money and jogs towards the hospital up to the second floor. He goes to the desk, and the girl on the desk is waiting for him.

“What’s wrong?” He says panting.

“It’s your patient. Something’s wrong with his head. I don’t know, they just told me to call you.” She says quickly.

“Is Dr. Davis here?” Harry asks.

“No, he left about half an hour ago.”

“Okay, thanks.” He says and starts walking towards Room 267.

He doesn’t knock; he just takes a deep breath and walks in to find the bed surrounded by two nurses and a doctor. They all turn to see him. The doctor glares at him. He doesn’t recognize him at first because of the dimness of the room, but then he realizes it is Dr. Wade.

“What happened?” Harry asks quietly.

“He’s got a concussion. His head is literally throbbing. He woke up screaming, and we’re trying to give him a sleeping pill, but he won’t let us.” He says exasperatedly. “I thought it might be of your interest, since he’s your patient.” He sneers.

He’s never really liked Dr. Wade, but if he wants to be someone at this hospital, he must be nice to him.

“It is, thank you.” He says as he walks closer to the bed. He touches one of the nurse’s back softly. “Here, let me try.”

The nurse moves away, and Harry sees Louis with wide, red eyes and his hair plastered with sweat just like he had seen him earlier. Only this time he looks wrecked and panicked. He’s sitting on the bed, his legs curled up in the blankets. He’s wearing his hospital clothes. When he sees Harry, he seems to calm down just a little.

“Hey, Lou.” Harry hesitates at the use of the nickname.

“Harry…” Louis says softly, innocently. He looks exhausted.

Harry walks closer to him. “You have a concussion, Lou. That’s what making your head hurt so much.” He explains.

“O-okay.”

He looks so scared, like a little bunny locked up in a cage full of lions. Harry reaches out his hand to push Louis’s hair back. The older boy closes his eyes for a moment.

“These pills will make the headache stop.” Harry grabs the bottle of pills and shows them to Louis.

Louis nods slowly.

“You wanna take them?”

Louis thinks about it for a second and nods again. It’s like talking to a small boy, being gentle so he doesn’t snap again.

“Okay, so take the pills and I’ll give you a glass of water.”

Harry hands him two pills, and Louis takes them with his uninjured hand. Then he gives him the glass of water and the other boy swallows.

When he turns around, he’s alone in the room.

“You’re going to be okay now?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I think so…” He struggles to lie down again. “Thank you.” He smiles faintly at Harry.

“Okay, the nurses are going to be right outside of the room, so –“

“No,” Louis interrupts, pulling the blankets up. “Stay with me, Harry.” He says in some sort of pleading way.

“Lou, you’re going to fall asleep soon, it won’t – “

“Please, just stay.” He asks again.

Louis is looking up at him with wide, scared eyes and Harry can’t say no to that face.

“Okay. Sure. I’ll stay.” He complies taking the usual visitor’s chair and falls heavily on it.

Harry himself last used the chair, so it’s still quite close to the bed. Close enough for Louis to reach out his hand and put it at the edge of the bed gesturing for Harry to hold it. When he does, he notices that his hand is warmer than ever. He touches Louis’s forehead with his other hand, but it’s the normal kind of warm.

“Lou, are you feeling okay?” He asks softly just in case. There are internal fevers, as well.

“Mhm…” Louis mumbles. He drifts to unconsciousness.

What a change, Harry thinks. He was a completely different person when he had left the room last. Full of confidence, and flirty and everything that Harry thinks would describe Louis Tomlinson. Right now he looks so innocent, so submissive. Like a small kid afraid of monsters under his bed at night.

He considers leaving the room; Louis won’t wake up for at least a few hours more. When he attempts to get up, he remembers that he’s still holding the older boy’s hand. Even though he knows that Louis won’t notice if he lets go of his hand, he knows he would still feel guilty about leaving, so he just tries to sit on a comfortable enough position and sets himself to sleep.

The chair is too small for him though, and there’s no space to rest his head on, and his legs are awkwardly located on the chair.

It is quite an uncomfortable way to spend the night. But then he thinks about the hand he’s holding and the body sleeping next to him and it is worth it.

 *

“So you spent the night with him.” Liam concludes with an arched eyebrow and a smirk on his face. Harry sighs, taking a sip from his coffee.

“If you call spent the night sitting on an extremely uncomfortable chair waking every five seconds to accommodate myself in that stupid, small chair and Louis not even aware of my presence, then yes, we spent the night together.” Harry says exasperatedly. Last night wasn’t as bad as he makes it to be. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it, with Louis’s hand on his and his head presses against the pillow permitting Harry to see every single little detail about him: like the little freckles around his nose, and his thin eyebrows, and that cute little nose. Yes, it hadn’t been exactly the worst night of his life. Though, he had to admit the sleep he had gotten was scarce and he was now dealing with some major neck and back problems.

“Still,” Niall says taking a huge bite from his muffin. They’re having breakfast at the small cafeteria of the hospital. “He asked you to stay with him.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Harry snaps impatiently. “I left the room as soon as Zayn got there, before he woke up.”

Liam looks up from his mug of chocolate.  “That guy is here again?”

“Um, yeah? I mean he’s Louis’s best friend.” Liam grunts. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“I don’t.” Liam keeps chewing slowly as if nothing happened. When he’s done, he gets out of his chair. “I should get going. Davis wants to see me.” And with that, he’s gone.

Niall gives Harry a bored look. “I need to know what happened between the both of them.” He sort of whispers and quietly pulls his chair and stands up. “Talk to you when I have some info, bye!”

Harry’s left alone with a glass of orange juice and a half eaten cheese bar on his hand. What good friends he has.

 

***

 

It’s 10am when Harry gets to Room 267 and overhears the conversation that is going on inside the room.

“I’m telling you, he slept here all night in this chair. He was here when I got here, he looked tired as shit, and he kind of mumbled a hi and left.” It is Zayn’s bemused voice.

“Wow,” Louis sounds surprised. “I asked him to stay, but I thought he would just wait until I fell asleep and leave.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Yeah, to be honest with you, I –“

Harry knocks before he can hear anything else. The voices stop sounding and a low ‘come in’ comes from the room. He opens the door and walks in slowly.

“Good morning, guys.” He says trying to look casual.

Louis looks way better than he did the day before. He’s sitting on the bed with breakfast on his tray right in front of him. He’s looking at him, smiling with the crinkled eyes. “Why, good morning, Harry.”

Zayn is too distracted looking at his phone.

“How’d you sleep?” Harry asks walking further into the room.

“Well, you’d know everything about my night, wouldn’t you?” Louis says brightly.

Harry opens his mouth to reply when someone walks into the room abruptly. It’s Liam, with slightly flushed cheeks and a large syringe in one hand and a urine test on the other. Harry looks at him in puzzlement.

“Liam, what the - ?” He stops himself. These guys might be young and nice, but they’re still patients, and it’s still against the rule to curse in front of your patients.

Liam looks from Louis to Harry to Zayn and stops there for a few seconds. Then he goes back to Harry and breathes heavily.

“Hi, uh, Harry…” He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Um, Davis sent me here to check… on… you.” The last word sounds more like a question.

Harry looks at him in puzzlement once again. What the hell is going on? Liam is giving him some sort of look, like he’s trying to make him understand something.

“Right. Um, yeah, we’re fine. This is Louis,” He points at Louis, who waves happily at Liam. “And this is his friend, Zayn.”

Harry turns to look at Zayn, who is surprisingly blushing bright red. “Hey,” Zayn practically stutters, with his mouth mostly formed in an ‘o’. “Uh… I t-think we’ve met before.” He scratches his head. Harry has never seen him this way. It’s amusing, in a way; watching Zayn get so nervous all of a sudden.

Liam doesn’t look bemused in the slightest. “Yeah, we’ve met.” He says through gritted teeth and turns immediately to Harry, who notices the amusement in his face anyway.

Harry looks as Louis, who is smirking from the bed. They exchange glances and Harry quirks his mouth a little bit. There might be going something on between these two. Of course, nothing more serious than an immature crush on each other and Liam playing hard to get, because Liam is a freak of nature when it comes to love.

The other intern walks slowly to Harry’s side, giving Louis a small smile. “So, are you okay? Um, Davis told me to ask you about the boy’s concussion. Is he going to need _the treatment_?”

Harry turns to where Louis is, who is listening intently, and looks incensed by Liam calling him ‘the boy’. He thinks about it; the treatment means a process that patients with severe concussions have to go through, in which they take a bunch of radiographies and exams and they keep them for about two weeks in the hospital just trying to figure out their nervous system. It’s quite a horrible treatment, and Harry does not wish it to anyone, but he still asks. “Lou how’s your head?”

“Uh,” Louis takes a few seconds to reply. He seems to be evaluating his state. “It still hurts. Not as much as last night, though.”

Harry looks back at Liam. “It was pretty bad last night.” He explains.

“Yeah,” Liam nods understandingly.  “I mean, it’d be good just to be sure nothing’s wrong with his nerve cells.”

Louis is playing with some sort of Rubik cube that Zayn brought him. He’s got his tongue between his lips, frowning in concentration. Harry tries not to find this adorable, but it is kind of a useless try. He turns to Liam, who’s waiting for his decision. “Let me talk to him. After all, it’s up to him. I’ll text you when I have the answer, okay?”

Liam pats him on the back and with a mumbled goodbye, directed _emphatically_ to Louis he leaves the room.

“Harry, why does he hate me?” Zayn asks as soon as the door is closed.

These two have gotten quite confident with Harry, and he can’t decide whether it’s good or bad. It’s good to have a good relationship with your patients. However, Harry is pretty sure ‘good relationship’ doesn’t involve getting off at the thought of one of them. He swallows hard. “He doesn’t hate-“

“Yes, he does.” Louis looks up from the Rubik cube. “Very much.”

“You don’t even know him.” Harry says defensively.

“Do you even know him, Zayn?” Louis ignores the previous comment.

“Yeah, we met the day before yesterday, I think. When you got here first.” He answers absentmindedly.

“Harry, why does he hate Zayn?” Louis asks now looking with those wide, curious eyes at Harry.

“He doesn’t hate –“

“Suck it up, _Curly_!” The older boy interrupts again. Harry tries not to blush or look surprised by the use of the nickname. “Now, tell us why your friend hates mine.”

Harry sighs, figuring there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. It’s still quite stupid, anyways, the whole Liam/Zayn thing, that is. “He says you were an ass to him when he met you.”

Zayn opens his mouth, but Louis speaks over him. “How dare you, Zayn Malik!” He sounds incredulous. “Who the fuck is an ass to a guy like _that_?”

Harry winces at the use of the swearword. It’s not very common for patients to curse so… cynically, if you will, in front of doctors.

“But I wasn’t an ass!” Zayn protests, and Harry’s really getting a headache. “Harry, tell him that I was not an ass. Tell him I’m sorry.” He asks pleadingly of the intern, and this is why Harry needs to stop being nice to people like Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik.

 

***

 

“So he most likely has a crush on you.” Harry finishes telling Liam and Niall everything that happened back in Room 267. It’s become some sort of habit: gathering up in the cafeteria and telling each other every interesting thing that happens. Since Louis came to the hospital, that has happened to be the main topic in all of their break-conversations. Niall is convinced Harry wants to fuck Louis, Harry is convinced that Louis is like that with every single fucking person on earth, and Liam only listens when the name Zayn is mentioned.

It’s quite boring, actually. The fact that they only talk about them on their breaks, but there’s nothing else to do, really. Their lives consist on spending every minute of their lives either at the hospital or at home trying to get some sleep.

Liam looks thoughtful for about a minute. Then, he finally looks at Harry and says. “I still don’t like him.”

Harry sighs. “I should get going.” And he leaves the cafeteria.

He feels excited about going to check on Louis. He’s been here for only three days, and it already feels like he’s familiar. Like he’s been forever in the hospital. Not in a romantic, cheesy way. It just feels like Harry’s been so busy with him that nothing else happens in the hospital. Nothing that matters, anyways.

When he gets to the room, he walks straight in. Louis is lying on his bed, as usual. He looks so bored it makes Harry feel bad for him.

“Hey, Lou.” He smiles at Louis, and he prays that the fondness he feels when he looks at the beautiful boy in front of him is not showing.

“I hate hospitals.” Louis admits, waving his uninjured arm dramatically.

“Who doesn’t?” Harry asks, because it’s true. If he weren’t incredibly in love with his career, he would hate hospitals: their smell, the dull color of the walls, the silence. He just happens to be so involved in his work, that he doesn’t really mind.

“Let’s do something fun.” Louis proposes, sitting on the bed.

Harry smiles. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… What do you do to enjoy yourself in here?” He asks hopefully, eyes shining. Harry hates it. He hates the fact that everything about this blue-eyed boy is just perfect. He hates the fact that this boy is so charming, and it seems like he’s literally made to make Harry like him, maybe too much for his own liking.

“I have an idea.” He says without really thinking it through. “It’s kind of forbidden, though, so you’ll have to be quiet.”

“Babe,” He looks at Harry pointedly. “Quietude is my greatest skill.”

Harry laughs. “It’s quietness.” He corrects, but Louis waves him off.

Harry carefully helps Louis in the wheelchair, as the older boy is saying mostly to himself: “This is going to be fun.”

They walk – Harry walks, Louis just sits helplessly on the chair being pushed by the intern – quietly down the aisle, until they get to the lift. Harry struggles to get the wheelchair inside and presses the rooftop button.

It takes a while to get there, since the hospital is incredibly big. They remain silent the whole ride up. The doors to the lift open, and they get outside. It’s a wide rooftop, from which you can see half of London at one side and the other half at the other. Harry comes here when he’s too stressed out from work, or when a surgery doesn’t work on a patient. He just likes to come here and breathe. A doorman, who told him he wasn’t supposed to be there, caught him once. He pointed out that there was an actual button in the lift for people to climb here. “Sorry, kid. They just give me orders and I follow them. Now, get out of here.” He had replied.

Of course, Harry had gone back to the hospital that day, but he still came whenever he wanted to. It was his little secret.

A secret he was sharing with Louis, he realizes.

“This is my one private place in the whole hospital.” Harry says leading Louis to the edge of the rooftop.

Louis smiles up at him with that beautiful smile that has Harry blushing in a matter of seconds.

“You really like working here, don’t you?” Louis asks softly after a few minutes of just admiring the view.

Harry thinks about it. “Yes. There are a few offside things about it, of course. But it’s my life, and I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“How long have you worked here?”

“For about a year and a half. My father used to work here before he… got sick. He recommended me to the hospital.”

Harry looks at Louis, who closes his eyes for a second. “He must be proud of you.” He says, but his voice sounds slightly different. A little bit like how it sounds when you’re about to cry, but he doesn’t. He opens his eyes and looks at Harry.

“Yeah, I guess.”

They stay silent for some minutes. It’s not awkward. They just stare at what’s in front of them, and Harry feels good. He’s always loved this feeling, like no matter how bad things get, he comes here and he sees a whole city in front of him: a whole city with a bunch of people dealing with their own problems. It makes him feel like he’s not the only victim. There are another million people who might be feeling the same way, and it’s somehow comforting.

“My parents kicked me out.” Louis says abruptly.

“What?” Harry asks a little disconcerted.

“I dropped out of college, and when they found out, they kicked me out of the house. Said they would not have an incompetent son.” His voice is so fragile right now, so soft.

“Why’d you drop out of college?” Harry wonders. He’s always got his life so figured out and dropping out of college really just feels like throwing everything out the garbage. It feels like wasting any chances you had.

Louis looks at him, taken aback. He probably expected an awkward sorry, and a pat on the shoulder. Harry feels guilty. It’s not his place to ask. He starts to think of an apology, but Louis answers before he has time to think of something. “I always hated politics. My father was this big politician, and he wanted me to follow his step. I just hated it, all of it. So I just left.”

“Where did you go?” Harry asks and once again he feels like an insensitive ass.

“To Zayn’s. That’s why he’s almost always here.” Louis smiles to himself. “He gets too bored without me.”

“What do you guys do?” And seriously, can’t he stop asking stupid questions?

“I play part time in a football team, and Zayn paints for a living. We have a flat in South London.”

“You play football?” Harry asks surprised.

“Yeah,” Louis has a soft smile on his lips, looking at the city. “It’s not a serious thing, we just gather up and train and then play matches against other teams. If we win, we get paid, if we lose, we don’t.”

“Sounds nice.” Harry says finally.

Louis stays quiet for a while. Harry can’t quite see his face, because he’s standing up beside Louis, who is on his wheel chair, but as much as he can see, he is frowning at the view. He thinks about this life Louis has. It’s a nice life, it is. It’s just not at all the life Harry has planned. Louis seems to have plenty of free time with Zayn, and he just seems so reckless. It is definitely the kind of life you want to have when you’re about sixteen. You just want to be fearless and adventurous and it sounds like a great plan at first, but then reality hits you. You’re not a character on a book, or an actor in a play, you’re a person, and you live in reality, and as much as it sucks to realize that, it’s good, in some kind of way. Sometimes Harry wonders what having a life like that would be like, but he doesn’t overthink it, because he might end up regretting every single decision he’s ever taken, and that doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“Your turn,” Louis asks so low Harry can barely hear him. “I know that you work here, that you’re friends with that Liam guy. What else?”

Harry walks in front of Louis so they can look at each other. He’s not a big eye-contact maker, but he likes people looking at him when he talks. “I’m not really that interesting.”

Louis snorts. He’s not exactly happy, Harry can tell, he’s just _there_ , willing to listen to whatever Harry has to say. “The most interesting people are the ones that say they’re not interesting.” He says looking at the other boy right in the eye.

Harry sighs. “I used to live with my mum and my sister, but about three months ago I got my own flat. I’ve known I was going to be a doctor since I was like, 12. Liam and Niall, another intern, are my best friends.” He says automatically, without any thought about it. “Um, there’s really nothing else.”

“Okay, you’re certainly hard to get to know.” Louis moves his wheelchair a little bit closer to Harry, so he’s standing at the very edge of the rooftop. “Let’s play a little game. I’ll ask you random questions, and you have to answer all of them.” He says with the usual playful smile on his lips. He looks a little bit happier now than he was a few seconds ago.

“Okay.” Harry agrees reluctantly.

“You got a girlfriend?” Louis asks almost instantly.

“No.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Love Actually.”

Louis smiles at this. “Cheesy as fuck. Favorite TV show?”

“Friends.”

“Favorite book?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird.”

“Any hobbies?”

“Um, I used to bake a lot at home.” He says slowly, because no, he doesn’t really have any hobby. He’s too busy for that.

“Any siblings, other than your sister?”

“No.”

Louis seems to think of one last question. “If someone gave you a ticket to go any place in the world, where would you go?”

“South Africa.” Harry answers.

“Are you serious?” Louis gapes.

“Yep.” Harry says easily.

“Why?”

“I’ve always wanted to go to a Safari.” He answers, smiling wide. Louis looks at him with those big blue eyes, smiling up at him.

“That’s one of the best answers I’ve got.” Louis remarks.

“Okay, my turn now.” Harry says, even though he’s terrible at these kinds of games.

“Shoot.”

He thinks if it would be too inappropriate to ask if he’s currently seeing someone, so he starts smooth.

“Favorite instrument?”

“Piano.”

“Favorite song?”

“Currently, it’s Trojans by Atlas Genius.”

“That’s a good song. Favorite movie?”

“Grease, the musical.”

“Favorite book?”

“I barely read, but I like Dorian Gray.”

“Girlfriend?” He blurts out, and hopes that Louis can’t notice the change in his voice.

“Yes.”

Harry stops dead for a second, he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he’s very suddenly out of breath. He forces himself to think of another question.

“Uh, best memory?”

“That’s an easy one. When I first moved in with Zayn, we got really bored because we still didn’t have any jobs. So one day Zayn bought a huge canvas and a bunch of paint. We weren’t the best friends at the moment but we just spent the whole afternoon painting whatever came to our minds in the canvas, until the paint was over and our hands were aching.” Louis says it with such a huge smile on his face, and his eyes crinkle.

Harry smiles fondly, but there’s this voice at the back of his mind saying _he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend._

He starts feeling uncomfortable, because he knew it all along. Louis Tomlinson is a fucking player. He wasn’t acting so flirty because he was interested in Harry whatsoever, it was just the way he is. He couldn’t blame the guy for having a girlfriend, or for being overly nice, and breathtakingly beautiful.

His phone beeps at the right moment. He thanks whatever god might listen to him as he slides to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, mate,” It’s Niall. “Davis called us for a meeting. Where are you?”

“Shit. Are you in a meeting _right now_?”

“No. Jesus, calm down. We’ll meet in ten minutes outside Davis’s office. Be there.” And he hangs up.

Harry puts his phone back in his pocket slowly. Louis is looking at him with curious eyes and a soft smile.

“We should get going.” Harry says lowly. He starts pushing Louis’s wheel chair towards the lift.

“Is everything okay?” Louis asks lifting his head to take a good look at Harry.

_Well, you’ve got a fucking girlfriend, and I’m crushing on you harder than ever and fuckfuckfuck._ He thinks about saying, but it may be a little inappropriate. Instead he nods, smiles and says, “Sure.”

They head back to Louis’s room and without a word Harry helps him into his bed and puts the wheelchair back into the closet. He starts walking to the door of the room.

“Harry,” He hears Louis’s voice. “Thanks for that, I really needed it.” He’s smiling confidently at him, and Harry can’t help but get that sinking feeling in his stomach. _He has a girlfriend._

“Anytime.” He answers quickly and leaves the room before the older boy can say anything else.

 

***

 

Harry barely gets any sleep that night. It has nothing to do with what happened with Louis the day before. He’s just pissed that he got so friendly with him, and that he got off to the thought of his soft lips, and that he showed him his favorite place in the city. Okay, maybe it has to do a little bit with the whole _Louis issue_. Still, Harry feels so incredibly stupid for not being able to sleep, with a million thoughts invading his mind.

It’s 7am when he gets to the hospital. He walks directly to Dr. Davis’s office instead of Room 267. He knocks softly and enters the room when he gets an answer.

“Styles,” Dr. Davis greets from his desk looking at the screen of his computer. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning, Dr. Davis, um,” He walks deeper into the room hesitantly. “I was wondering if I can have a word with you.”

Davis looks up from his laptop and raises his eyebrows. “Well, you’re already here, aren’t you?”

“Right, um, I was wondering until when I have to take care of the patient with the broken leg and the concussion?”

Dr. Davis takes his glasses off and raises his eyebrows even more. “Until he leaves, of course.”

“Yeah, but when is he going to leave?” Harry insists.

Davis scoffs. “You’re the one that should know. I sent Payne to tell you about the treatment.” He says dismissively.

Shit. He had forgotten. Zayn and Louis had distracted him with all that ‘why does Liam hate me’ rubbish.

“Right. Yes, he’ll be put through the treatment.” He says hating himself. What if Louis is sick of being here? He’s basically taking the decision for him. It’s probably illegal, but it’s for the sake of his job. Nobody has to find out, though.  He’ll tell Louis it’s necessary and the doctors that Louis agreed to it.

“Okay, then. Off you go.” He waves him off.

Harry walks out of the room slowly and closes the door behind him. He heads reluctantly to Louis’s room, figuring out what he is going to do from now on.

Of course, Louis is not aware in the slightest of Harry’s little _crush_ on him. He figures he should just distance himself from the older boy. If there’s no way of switching with any other intern willing to attend Louis, then he’ll have to stop the whole friendship. It may be hard, because Louis is such a flirt (to everyone, Harry reminds himself) and Harry’s such a fool.

When he gets there, he knocks heavily on the door and opens it. Louis is alone, for starters. He’s sitting on his bed apparently too distracted with his phone to notice Harry. _He’s probably texting his girlfriend_ , is the first thought that comes to Harry and as much as he tries to ignore it, it still bugs him and he feels a pinch of jealousy. He swallows hard and clears his throat.

Louis lifts his eyes and they look at each other for just a second, both apparently lost in thought, until Louis smiles widely at him (his eyes crinkle, and Harry hates himself for noticing). “Harry!”

“Hey, Lou.” He says not with the exact enthusiasm he would like to use.

“Is something wrong?” Louis asks instantly, and Harry can’t decide if he hates or if he loves the fact that he can notice something is wrong within so little time. But then he’s forced to lie, and yeah, he probably hates it.

“No.” He says casually. “I’m fine. How was your night?” He asks more businesslike than anything else.

Louis looks a little surprised. “It was fine,” He shrugs. “I missed you, though.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Harry wishes he had stopped at ‘fine’.

Harry barely smiles and looks down at his clipboard ( _damn,_ he thinks.) He doesn’t know what to say or do, until he remembers that he has to inform Louis about the treatment.

“So, as I told you,” He starts seriously, not making eye contact with the other boy, even though he feels the blue eyes staring at him intently. “You have a concussion, and we need to make sure your nerve cells are fine. There’s a treatment for this, which involves your staying in the hospital for a few days.”

He feels so guilty when he looks at Louis with big, curious eyes, but he does the best to hide it. He doesn’t _have_ to go through with this treatment, if he doesn’t want to. Harry’s just a shit doctor.

Louis looks confused for a moment. “I thought I had a say in this, though.”

Harry’s eyes widen. “How did you know?”

“I heard you talking with Liam.”

Harry has two options: denying it and telling him that he’s a special case, that he _needs_ the treatment, or telling the truth. He goes for the latter.

“You do,” He admits. “I’m sorry, Lou. It’s just that I was talking to my boss this morning and I had forgotten to ask you, and he looked murderous so I sort of told him you agreed to it. I’m so sorry, I should have asked you, I - ”

“It’s okay,” Louis cuts him off. “I would have said yes anyway.” He says with a soft smile.

“Yeah, but still,” Harry insists. “What if you didn’t want to do it, it would have been incredibly selfish - ”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts again. “It’s okay, don’t fret about it. I forgive you, if it helps.” He’s still got that smile on him, which makes Harry want to go straight ahead and kiss him and find out what do thin beautiful lips taste like. He wants to know what Louis’s arm around his back would feel like, and his own cupped in his chin. For god’s sake, he wants to know what it would be like feeling a bulge in the other boy’s jeans when they’re-

“You okay there?” Louis is looking up at him with a bemused face. Harry blushes harder than ever and nods too quickly.

“Y-yeah. Perfect.” He says looking right at the top of Louis’s head instead of his eyes.

“I’m serious, though,” Louis tilts his head to one side. “Something’s off with you today.”

Harry goes to deny it again, but he stops himself. He should just tell him the truth, shouldn’t him? Not the part in which he has an increasing crush on him and that he’s extremely jealous of his girlfriend, who he doesn’t even know. Of course not. The truth as in they’re getting too close for a doctor/patient relationship, and that is forbidden.

“It’s just that,” Harry hesitates. “I don’t know how to say this. Um, I guess it’s just not good for us to become, like, really close. I mean, like, we can be friendly and all, but it’s sort of forbidden to create a bond with a patient.” He fidgets with the buttons of his doctor’s gown the whole time.

What takes Harry by surprise is that Louis doesn’t look surprised at all. He just gives him a blank look for a moment and then an understanding one. “Okay. I understand.”

“You do?” Harry asks stupidly.

“Yeah,” Louis nods easily. “No, wait. I don’t understand the whole thing, really. Does that mean we’re not going to watch movies, or talk when I’m bored? Because I’m going to be here for quite a long time now that _I_ have agreed to do the treatment.” He says, a disappointed look on his face.

Harry should say no. He should say that they shall only talk about medical stuff, but that look sets him off. How can he say no to that face? And, yeah, he realizes he so screwed when he says it.

“No, I mean, we can. Yes, we can watch movies and talk.” He is aware that he sounds pretty dumb, but he doesn’t care because Louis’s disappointment is gone and replaced by a wide smile and a little chuckle.

“Then what’s the point of this whole conversation?” He says with a little laugh at the end.

Harry curses himself. He’s so stupid; he really should just stop talking to patients completely. Communicate in sign language, or whatever, because he’s so stupid when it comes to cute boys, with nice laughs and great personalities, and not to forget a smile that could light up the whole freaking hospital. And he’s even more stupid when guys like these happen to be his patients. Okay, he’s only thinking about Louis, but you get the point.

“No!” Harry says abruptly, before he can stop himself. “No, I’m sorry, Louis. We – we can’t do that. Um, I gotta go.” And just like that he stumbles out of the room, leaving a bewildered looking Louis behind.

He doesn’t go back. He can’t. He can’t because he knows if he does he will end up watching a god damn movie with Louis and laughing and he’ll probably just fall for this boy, and screw everything up.

Thank god it’s Friday, Harry thinks as he walks aimlessly around the second floor, because he really, _really_ needs a break from this place.

As soon as the weekend started, it was over, and he wasted it locked in his flat, watching cheesy, sad, romantic movies that have his mind more wrecked than it has ever been. He wants a Leonardo DiCaprio (also known as Jack Dawson) for himself. No, he doesn’t want Rose. He doesn’t want a Rose not because he’s completely gay, but because she’s got this annoying thing about her, Harry can’t quite describe, but he doesn’t like her.

He doesn’t even get a call from anyone during the whole weekend, and that’s when he realizes how lonely he is; which makes him watch more romantic movies and by the time he goes to bed on Sunday night, he knows for certain that he’ll dream about boys with nice little bodies, and beautiful eyes, and, okay, yes, he will dream about Louis.

The next day he wakes up with a slight headache, and he secretly wishes it were a hangover, but it isn’t. It’s simply that his eyes are tired of watching so much TV and eating so many sweet things. He takes a cold shower and clears his mind. He has got important things to do today, which mostly (or uniquely) involve keeping his distance from Louis.

He gets to the hospital at 6:45, fifteen minutes early, and he usually would head straight to Room 267, but he decides not to. Instead, he goes to the cafeteria and orders a coffee.

“Good morning, lover boy.” He hears a familiar voice, but not familiar enough to recognize it. He turns around to find Zayn standing in front of the door of the cafeteria, wearing loose jeans and a plain white t-shirt. His hair is styled in the same worked up quiff as always. He’s smiling big at Harry.

“Zayn,” His confusion evident. “What are you doing here?”

“I spent the night at Louis’s room. He called me yesterday saying he would die if I didn’t come quickly. Turns out he would apparently die of boredom.”

Harry laughs a little bit, taking a sip of his coffee. “How is he?”

“He’s fine. I thought he would get out of here sooner, though. I didn’t know about the treatment thing.”

They stay quiet for a moment. Finally, Harry breaks the silence. “It’s nice of you to come here on a Sunday night to spend the night with him.”

Zayn looks at him in the eye, a grin on his face. “I don’t mind. I get bored as hell at home without him anyways.”

“So you spent the whole night in the room?” Harry asks mostly to avoid the awkwardness.

“Yeah,” He thinks for a second. “No. I went for a walk and I ran into your friend Liam. We talked for a bit. I apologized, and hopefully he doesn’t hate me anymore.” He says excitedly.

“He sort of fancies you.” Harry blurts out feeling like a complete traitor.

“What?” Zayn chokes.

“He fancies you.” Harry repeats, the guilt still heavy on him.

“Did he tell you that?” Zayn looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

“No, but I know him well. I know when he fancies someone.”

Zayn goes from white, to red, to white again, until his skin settles into some kind of greenish white. He opens his mouth several times to say something, but at the end he just leaves without any other comment. Harry shrugs and keeps sipping his coffee.

By the time he’s done, it’s time to get started with the job. He reluctantly gets up and heads to the Neurology Department of the hospital.

There’s a middle-aged woman sitting on the desk with a computer in front of her. She looks at him and gives him a wide smile. “How can I help you, dear?”

Harry hands him the documents in which there’s the certificate of the IV Depakon treatment that Louis will go through. She copies some things from the computer to the paper, and puts a stamp at the bottom of the page. “There you go.”

He walks back to Room 267. The treatment will start at 2pm, so he just has to check on Louis right now and he won’t have to see him again until it’s time for the treatment.

“Come in!” He hears from inside the room after he knocks. Harry walks into the room expecting to find Louis sitting on his bed distracted by some dumb thing, as always, and maybe Zayn sitting on the chair beside. But he finds something completely different. Well, not quite, but it’s still unexpected. Louis _is_ sitting on his bed, but Zayn’s not there. Instead, there’s a girl standing at one side of the hospital cot, with one hand on Louis’s shoulder. She’s tall, and thin, and very pretty. She has long, wavy brown hair, and brown eyes.

Harry looks from her to Louis, and back again. He shouldn’t have come. Fuck.

“Oh, Harry!” He says brightly. “This is Eleanor.” He points at the girl, who’s smiling shyly at him.

Harry takes a deep breath, and prays for his voice not to quiver. “Hi,” He walks towards her and stretches his hand to shake hers. “I’m Louis’s doctor.”

After shaking his hand, she smiles again, a little more confidently. “I’m Eleanor, his girlfriend.” She says and Harry literally feels himself wincing, but apparently neither of them gives any notice.

“Nice to meet you.” He practically chokes.

This is the exact situation that Harry was avoiding. He’s just standing here like a fucking idiot, in front of the boy he fancies (it’s more than just fancying, but Harry won’t admit that) and his girlfriend. Perfect.

“You too.” She says and reaches out her hand to stroke Louis’s hair. It looks so soft, and Harry finds himself wishing he could be the one doing that instead of her. “I’ve heard you’ve taken good care of Lou.”

“Yeah, well it’s what I get paid for, isn’t it?” He intends to make it sound as a joke, but it doesn’t at all. Eleanor laughs just to be polite, but Louis gives him some sort of hurt look. Harry gulps. He wants to get out of here as soon as he can. “Uh, Louis, the first part of your treatment will start at 2pm, so I’ll come fetch you.” He announces and starts walking towards the door, when Eleanor’s voice stops him.

“How long is he going to have to stay here exactly?” She asks.

“Um, we don’t have the exact number of days, but there’s four parts for the treatment, and he has to rest between each part. So I’ guessing between eight to nine days.”

Eleanor gapes at him. “Nine days?”

Harry nods confusedly. “Is there any problem with that?” He asks, and it may or may not sound aggressive.

“Oh, no,” She recovers herself easily. “It’s just that I miss him.” She goes back to stroking Louis’s hair.

_Well, you should have come earlier if you missed him so much_ , Harry thinks but keeps his mouth shut. Louis doesn’t say anything either. In fact, he looks pretty interested on his white t-shirt all of a sudden.

“I’ll see you later, then,” He glimpses at Louis for a fraction of a second, and quickly turns to Eleanor. “It was nice to meet you, Eleanor.”

He walks out of the room, closing the door heavily behind him. He sighs and heads to the cafeteria once again.

He genuinely feels like shit. He doesn’t know what pisses him the most. Maybe it’s the fact that Eleanor is so nice, and there really isn’t any reason to hate her. But he still does. He feels a burning jealousy in his stomach and he hates it. He hates himself for feeling like he does. It isn’t Louis’s fault for being perfect, and having a perfect girlfriend. It’s entirely his fault for being caught up in his feelings so damn fast. He met the boy, what, five days ago?

As he is walking to the cafeteria, someone tackles him from behind. It’s Niall, Liam right next to him. “Mate, where the hell have you been lately?”

Harry disentangles himself from Niall and keeps walking. He’s so not in the mood of talking, but at the same time he needs to get everything out of his chest, and he figures, if it’s not with these two, then who? “D’you have free time? I’m going to the cafeteria.”

They both nod and follow him.

When they’re settled, each with a muffin in hand, Harry starts speaking. He tells them everything. From the day he met Louis (cutting out the part of the jerking off at the thought of him), to a few minutes ago, when he met the girlfriend.

Finally, he finishes, and none of them look very surprised. They stay silent for a few minutes, and Harry moves his hands anxiously.

“So, you really like this guy?” Liam asks at last.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say this, mate, but it’s a pretty complicated situation. If he didn’t have a girlfriend my advice would be to tell him how you feel, but he has a girlfriend.”

“I know that.” Harry says, and after evaluating his ‘options’ (he doesn’t really have any other than deal with it, just get over him), he sighs defeated. “You know what? Whatever, I’ll deal with it. I’m being extremely dramatic with this whole thing,” And when neither of them deny it, he continues. “How have you guys been, anyway?”

“I met this girl the other day. I think I fancy her.” Niall says in a bored tone. “Nothing new.”

“Liam?”

Liam accommodates his chair and breathes deeply. “Well, now that we’re opening up, or whatever, I guess I’ve got something to tell you.” The other two stop biting their muffins and listen, it’s not everyday that they have interesting news. “Harry, remember your patient’s friend, Zayn?” Harry nods slowly. “I kinda hooked up with him.” He says quickly.

“W-what?” Harry chokes on his muffin.

“I still don’t like him all that much,” He explains sheepishly. “But this morning he came to one of the resting rooms, I have no idea how he knew I was there so don’t ask, and he was kind of flustered in a…hot way. And next thing I know I’ve got him pinned against a wall, and the door is locked, and, yeah, there was penis stuff involved.”

Niall smothers a laugh, but Harry’s just plain disturbed. “ _Liam._ ”

“I know. It won’t happen again, I know it’s against the rule or whatever. I just needed to tell someone.” He says looking down at his tray.

“Wow.” That’s all Harry manages to say.

“I know.”

“No, seriously, wow.” He repeats.

“I know. Just shut up, yeah? I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. You guys suck.”

Niall finally lets out the laugh he was holding. They both glare at him. “Holy shit, it’s like Keeping Up With The Kardashians with you too. What is it with the drama here, for fuck’s sake.” He says eating finishing up his muffin. They continue to glare at him, until he gets out of his seat and picks up his tray. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll just leave then. I’ve got stuff to do anyways.”

Harry checks the time. It’s barely 10am, and he literally has nothing else to do than wait. They keep chatting about any other thing that doesn’t involve Louis or Zayn, until Liam says he has to leave as well. Harry if left sitting alone.

He wakes up to someone knocking on the door of the resting room. He gets up lazily and opens the door to find none other than Zayn standing on the door. Zayn looks surprised and embarrassed. “Harry,” He scratches the back of his head. “Sorry, I just wanted to see if - ”

“Liam was here.” Harry completes before the other boy can. Zayn nods, his cheeks red. “Seriously, Zayn, what do you think we do? Like, spend all day long sleeping?” He says it in a mocking tone, and Zayn laughs a little bit. He’s still blushing though.

“Shit, this is embarrassing.” Zayn avoids eye contact and stays completely still.

“It’s okay, it’s fine. What do you do here all day anyway? When you’re not with Louis, I mean.” He asks.

Zayn looks more relaxed now, he walks deeper into the room, and Harry goes back to the bed and sits down. “I don’t really know. I just kinda walk aimlessly around. That’s how I ran into Liam so many times.” He says with a chuckle.

“Why where you looking for him?”

“I just wanted to talk about… what happened earlier.”

Harry goes to change the topic, but some curiosity sets over him. “Why? What happened?” He asks innocently.

Zayn hesitates, he doesn’t look sure of trusting Harry, but he ends up telling him. “Something that apparently is not allowed between crew and customers. He kept saying it the whole time.”

“Oh,” Harry’s amusement is evident. “So, you wanted to talk to him about it.”

Zayn stands in front of the bed awkwardly, looking for something to distract himself with. “Yeah, I mean, I know he still hates me, I just wanted to make sure that he’s not going to, like, lose his job because of me.”

Harry laughs. “That’s adorable. No, he won’t lose his job, as long as no one else finds out,” He explains. “And he doesn’t hate you, he doesn’t exactly like you, but he doesn’t hate you either.”

Zayn nods, not looking very convinced.

“So, you’re, like, friends with benefits, now?” He asks mockingly. Zayn snorts.

“Strangers with benefits, better. But no, I don’t think it will happen again.” Harry can’t tell whether it’s sadness or determination in Zayn’s face, but he doesn’t ask.

After an awkward silence, the older boy looks at Harry. “I heard you met Louis’s girlfriend,” Harry gulps and nods uncomfortably. “Quite a nightmare, isn’t she?” He says with a smirk on his face.

“What? N-no, she’s actually… kind of… nice.” It takes him about a minute to finish the whole sentence, and he’s sure it sounds like everything but the truth.

Zayn gives him a pointed look. “C’mon, Harry. Even Louis doesn’t like her.”

It takes a long minute for Harry to take this in. “H-he doesn’t?”

The other boy laughs, without giving any notice of Harry’s strangled expression. He literally feels like he’s choking on his own saliva. “No, of course not. I have no idea why he’s still with her. He won’t tell me.” He doesn’t really look at Harry; it seems like he’s talking more to himself.

Harry let’s out an “Oh”, and Zayn laughs a little bit. “So, now that I told you about Liam, tell me about _you_.”

“What about me?” He asks when he’s finally quite recovered his breath.

“Aren’t you going to confess your endless love for my best mate?” Zayn asks, smiling down at him.

Harry’s breath hitches. What is it about these _people_ that make him so uncomfortable all the time? “I – I don’t know what you’re - ”

“Oh, c’mon! _Harry.”_ He looks annoyed now. “You know what? I’ll talk to you when you can own up to your feelings. It’s always the same fucking story with Louis…” He starts mumbling as he opens the door. Harry thinks he’s actually mad at him, until he turns his head, winks at him and closes the door behind him.

Harry sighs heavily and checks the time. He’s got an hour before he has to go fetch Louis for the treatment. He lays himself on the bed and falls asleep as easily as he had the first time.

 *

 

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Harry asks, but his voice sounds cold, distant.

“No, it was fine, really. I expected it to be a lot more… painful, I guess.” Louis says kindly, but the younger boy doesn’t answer.

They haven’t said more than a few words since he came to fetch him, and Harry’s certainly not planning for this to change. He walks, pushing Louis silently down the aisle of the second floor. Harry wishes he could say it has not been an awkward silence. He wishes it were one of those comfortable moments where everyone is quiet, but it doesn’t really matter. But it does. It is extremely awkward, actually. Louis clearly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he keeps moving them all around his body: to his sides, at first, then he kind of holds himself, and then he ends up just resting them on his legs. Not that Harry’s been watching his every move, no.

When they get back to Room 267, Harry opens the door and pushes Louis’s wheel chair inside. He helps him back to the bed, and as he’s working on folding the chair for it to fit in the closet, Louis speaks. “Harry, is something wrong?”

Harry keeps his eyes locked on the chair. “No,” He answers, but it sounds more like a question. “Why?”

He lifts his gaze for a second to see Louis looking at him nervously. “I don’t know, I guess the change was so abrupt, and I don’t like it. Before and after Friday, that is.” He explains.

Harry goes to apologize, as he normally would, but he stops himself. He can’t. He really, _really_ needs to distance himself from this boy. Niall is right, they’re all being so dramatic about the whole thing, at it won’t end if he keeps falling into Louis’s charms.

“I’m okay,” He says bitterly, and he kinda hates himself for it, but doesn’t change the tone. “And I would appreciate it if you would stop talking about this _thing_ ,” He moves his arms between them. “As if we were friends, because we can’t be friends… we’re not.” The last bit of the sentence sounds strangled, choked out, and he prays that Louis doesn’t notice the incredibly fake-annoyed tone he’s using.

Harry doesn’t know what he is expecting from Louis after saying that, but he certainly doesn’t expect the blank “Okay.” He gives him. There’s literally no feeling in it. No anger, no sadness, no shame, not even sarcasm. It’s just so _plain_.

He nods taken aback. “Have a good day, Louis.” He says and leaves the room.

Good. This is good. It gives him an uncomfortable in his stomach, and his chest aches, but it is good.

 

***

 

Harry opens the door to his flat and puts the keys back in his pocket. He goes to the kitchen, warms up a pre-made pizza and throws himself on the couch. He’s not really tired, taking into account he slept half of the day, but he doesn’t have anything else to do than watch TV like the lonely, single man he is.

Halfway to the movie he’s watching, his phone vibrates inside his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mate! Wanna go out?” It’s Niall. The loud tone of his voice and the sound of the cars flashing past him tell Harry he’s in the street.

“Um, now?” He asks rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, now, you lazy piece of shit,” He gets really mean when he’s excited. “Now get your ass out of that couch of yours and meet me at the front door of the usual.” He says and hangs up.

By the usual, he means the club they always go to when they want to get extremely wasted. Well, it’s the _only_ club Harry really goes to, but not Niall, so the name works.

Harry stops the movie and thinks. Getting drunk would help for the night, but then tomorrow it would be a disaster. The mere thought of the hangover makes him want to puke. Yet, he still ends up changing his clothes for something acceptable to wear at a club and closing the door of the flat behind him.

He won’t get drunk, though. Maybe he’ll have a drink or two. But not wasted, not tonight.

The street in which the club is located is completely lightened up by the different clubs and restaurants surrounding it. The pavement is unusually full of people, given the fact that it’s Monday, and, who the hell parties on Mondays?

“Styles!” He hears from behind him. He turns around and finds Niall in a blue flannel and dark jeans. He walks up to him and pats him on the back.

“Hey,” Harry tries not to sound too unexcited, but he fails. Niall doesn’t care, though, because he’s soon leading him through a bunch of people and into the club itself.

The place is immense. It has about five booths with three or four bartenders in each of them. It’s also full of people dancing to the beat of the music. Harry doesn’t really like it. The music’s okay, but it’s a tad too loud, and it smells very much like cigarette. They get themselves in the crowd of people, and soon enough Niall is out of sight. Harry loosens up a little bit and starts dancing to the music. He feels someone grinding on him from behind, but he doesn’t even bother to turn around, he just keeps dancing until his chest is sweaty.

A while later he starts to feel thirsty, so he walks to one of the booths.

“I’ll take a Gin & Tonic.” He shouts to the bartender, who nods and walks away from him.

He’s only going to drink one. That’s it. Then he’ll go dance a little bit more, he’ll excuse himself from Niall and go home.

That ends up being completely false thirty minutes later, when he finds himself sitting on a chair next to the booth drinking what seems to be his fourth shot. He hasn’t stood up from where he is since he took his first drink.

Now, Niall is sitting next to him. Harry can tell he’s pretty drunk, though he can’t tell much more. He doesn’t even remember how long he’s been here, or how long ago Niall sat next to him. “Why didn’t Liam come?” Harry asks, his voice too loud for his liking. The other boy shrugs.

“Said ‘e couldn’t. I wanted to get you two drunk to forget ‘bout your love life for a while,” He snorts. “But the fucker couldn’t make it.”

Harry nods as he feels his phone buzz. “Be right back.” He announces and stumbles out of the booth to somewhere quieter.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Dr. Styles?” He hears a familiar girly voice. “It’s Bridget, from the hospital. Dr. Davis says your patient needs you.”

“Who says what?” Harry nearly shouts at the phone.

“Dr. Davis,” The nurse sounds annoyed. “He says your patient needs you.”

“Oh,” He says slowly, “Okay, I’ll be there soon.” And he hangs up.

It wouldn’t really bother him to have to leave the club to go the hospital, except it’s Louis who needs him, and nothing good can come out of this.

He still goes back to the booth and tells Niall that they need him at the hospital. He just pouts a little bit, but waves him off when Harry goes to say something else.

He is soon out in the street again, and it’s much emptier. He checks his watch first. It’s 2am. How the hell did time go by so fast?

He calls a cab and heads to the hospital, still feeling a little bit dizzy and groggy from the club. He didn’t really drink _that_ much, so he isn’t exactly drunk. He could be in better circumstances to go to the hospital, though.

When they get there he hands the money to the cab driver and tells him to keep the change. He goes into the hospital and takes the lift to the second floor, mainly because his feet ache too much to go by the stairs.

He walks past the desk and waves at the nurse.

Room 267 is closed, and he doesn’t bother to knock. He walks in slowly. He’s pretty sure his breath smells like alcohol, but the lights and the smell of the hospital helped him with the drunkenness.

Louis is sitting on his bed, the lamp on the night table illuminating the room and he doesn’t look sleepy at all. In fact, there’s something on the look of his face that makes him look so incredibly handsome, Harry just wants to reach up to him and kiss him until his lips are numb.

“Harry,” Louis says slowly, as the younger boy walks up to him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.” Louis plays with the fabric of his hospital gown.

Harry tries to look annoyed. “Then why did you call me?” He snaps loudly, but Louis doesn’t answer. He just stays there, playing with the damn string, looking calm as ever. “Look, I have other things to - ”

“I don’t believe a word about it, you know?” Louis cuts him off, his voice sounds cold.

“A w-word about what?” Harry asks taken aback.

“The whole ‘we can’t be friends because I’m your doctor’? That’s rubbish.” He spits, looking rather angry now. Harry gapes at him.

He isn’t exactly drunk, but this whole Louis thing has his head hurting and his vision a little bit blurry. “I-I don’t know what you’re-”

“Look, Harry, if you’re not going to talk to me all of a sudden, you might as well come up with a believable excuse.”

Harry swallows. What is he supposed to do now? _Deny:_ It’s the only way. “I’ve told you, Louis. These type of… relations are not allowed with patients.” He repeats a little too hesitantly.

“So there’s no other reason,” Louis concludes, but he doesn’t look like he’s buying it. “…Whatsoever.” And before Harry knows, Louis is ranting about the way he’s seen him look at him when he thinks he’s not looking, and the way he blushes when he pays him a compliment, and Harry really can’t take it anymore. This whole thing is just so _embarrassing._

“We can’t be friends because all I ever want to do when I see you is to kiss you!” Harry snaps, he can feel his cheeks flushing and his eyes wide open. Louis stops talking and gapes for a moment, but very soon he’s looking at him with the same look he had when Harry had entered the room. So _inviting_ and tempting and, Harry should just get out of here.

“So why haven’t you done it?” He asks, his voice so low and soft Harry can barely hear it. He can’t exactly see his whole face; just the part illuminated by the lamp.

“B-because you… you have a girlfriend.” He admits, feeling a little bit dizzy now. It’s like the alcohol is coming back to his organism all of a sudden.

“So…?”

“So you wouldn’t cheat on your girlfriend, would you?” He asks accusatorily, though Harry can sort of tell that, yes, he would.

For god knows what reason, Harry starts walking closer, and closer, each step his breath hitching more and more. Louis doesn’t reply he just keeps staring at Harry expectantly. He _really_ wants to kiss him, right there right now, but something in the back of his mind is telling him that he can’t. He shouldn’t. He has, in fact, been drinking though. So he can blame it on the alcohol later. He can just say he didn’t know what he was doing. After a moment of just staring at each other, Harry leans in closer to Louis’s bed, and Louis lifts his head up so they are facing each other. His eyes looking right into those greyish blue eyes of him. “I’ve been drinking.” He says abruptly, but really softly. Louis doesn’t even flinch; he just cups his hand on Harry’s chin and mumbles an “I don’t care.” Before he presses his lips against Harry’s.

His lips are just as soft as he had imagined, and before he knows he’s melting down into the kiss, moving his body so he’s comfortably sitting on the edge of the bed. The kiss is slow, not rushed or needy, though Harry certainly feels like needs more, but he’ll enjoy the moment right now. Louis licks his lips and shoves his tongue into Harry’s mouth. His uninjured hand is still cupped on Harry’s chin and the other one is resting on his own chest. Harry is touching Louis’s waist with one hand and tugging at his hair with the other one.

As they grow deeper and deeper into the kiss, it gets more rushed, their tongues moving in each other’s mouths, sometimes breaking the kiss for a second to catch a breath. Harry’s hand has moved lower, it’s now resting on Louis’s thigh and the other one is still playing with Louis’s soft hair. Louis is moving his hand down, now pulling softly on Harry’s shirt, to which Harry just leans in until there’s no space between them. Their mouths and bodies pressed together.

After a while of rushed kissing and heaving, Louis breaks apart but keeps his hand firm on Harry’s shirt. “I really needed to do that.” He whispers, still panting. They stay like that, bodies pressed against each other and their mouths really close but not touching, their foreheads together, for a while until Louis kisses the spot right next to Harry’s lips softly, and Harry goes to kiss him back, when a knock on the door breaks them apart abruptly. Harry disentangles himself from the bed in a matter of seconds and straightens his clothes, as Louis breathes in one or two times and says in a very low voice, “Come in.”, after sparing Harry a short glance, with a little smile on his face.

It’s Dr. Davis wanting to know if everything’s all right with Louis. “Yes, I am fine now. My head was hurting terribly, what, thirty minutes ago, but Dr. Styles gave me a pill.” The older boy tells the doctor, the smile never leaving his face. That smile where his eyes are crinkled and everything, Harry can’t help but notice.

“Okay, good,” Davis looks from Louis to Harry. “Then have a good night.” He says shortly and leaves the room.

Harry is standing next to the bed now, with one arm resting on the bed frame and the other one awkwardly hanging to his side. He doesn’t say anything when Davis is gone. Louis looks up at him, tilting his head to the side, and the smile is still there.

“Stay the night with me?” Louis asks innocently.

Harry debates this silently. He really, _really_ should say no and leave immediately. “Yes.” He finds himself saying and then cursing under his breath when Louis points to the chair next to him. He takes it and pulls it closer to the bed and finally sits down with a sigh.

After a comfortable silence, Louis says in a voice so low Harry barely hears him. “How drunk are you exactly?” He’s now lying on the bed, his cheek pressed to the pillow, and he’s looking at Harry, his eyelids threatening to fall closed at any time. That moment is when Harry realizes how tired he is, as well, so he makes himself comfortable on the chair and closes his eyes. “I’m not sure.” He says finally.

Just before he drifts into unconsciousness he feels a hand warm on his, and a little thumb stroking his fingers softly.

 

Harry wakes up at 4:15am the next day, or should he say, later that day. He’s still sitting on the same chair he fell asleep on last night, and Louis’s hand is still limply connected to his at the edge of the bed. Harry straightens up on the chair, ignoring the pain on his neck, and disentangles his fingers from Louis as slowly and quietly as he can. He proceeds to stand up and walk silently to the door. Before he leaves, he spares one last look at Louis, who is sleeping with his mouth slightly open and looks as comfortable as can be.

He doesn’t want to leave, he really doesn’t. But he has to. He has no idea how he is going to deal with this later, but right now, he just has to get out of here.

The hospital is completely empty, except for a nurse behind the main desk and a man standing in front of it chatting with her. Harry ignores them and heads for the stairs hurriedly.

He takes the underground from the hospital to his house, which is only one station away, and he only does it because his whole body is resented from sleeping what seemed like the whole night (except it was only two hours) awkwardly crumbled up in a chair.

When Harry arrives to his flat, he tries to get some more sleep on his couch, but after fifteen minutes of changing his position to a more comfortable one, he gives up. He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of milk and a cookie as breakfast. He would feel bad about the lack of carbohydrates or protein if it weren’t for the headache from last night.

By the time he’s done with breakfast, showered and ready to leave it’s 6am, so he just sits on the couch and tries to get his thoughts clear.

_He had kissed Louis._ That’s the only thought he manages to put apart from the other million. It’s like it was written in his brain in capital letters. _HE HAD KISSED LOUIS._ Louis, who has a girlfriend. Louis, who is his fucking patient. Louis, the one person he should not fall in love with, had made him fall right onto the spider web of his life. The life that didn’t fit into Harry’s plans _at all._

 

***

 

“You what?!” Liam basically spits his coffee to gape at him. Harry’s is lying down on the small bed of the resting room, Niall right on top of Harry’s legs and Liam sitting carefully at the corner of the bed with a mug of coffee in his hands.

It’s 7:30am, and he had gone into the room to see if he could nap a while, but these two had stumped right in and thrown themselves over him.

“I kissed him,” Harry grunts. “Or he kissed me, I don’t know, nor I care. The point is that we snogged.” He throws the pillow over his head and breathes heavily.

Liam looks pretty taken aback and worried. Niall, on the other hand, finds this _amusing_. He’s laughing, and Harry glares at him.

“Why the fuck would you do that, Harry?” Liam snaps. “You know it’s against the rules! This puts your whole freaking career in danger! God knows what would have happened if Davis hadn’t knocked-”

“Says the guy who snogged Louis’s friend right here,” Harry counters angrily. “No, wait. He didn’t just _snog_ him. He sucked him off!”

At this, Liam blushes a whole new level of red and quiets his voice, “He wasn’t a patient.”

After Niall laughs for about two minutes straight, and both Liam and Harry end up glaring at him, Liam’s blush is gone. “No, but seriously, Harry. You can’t let this thing go any further.” He insists.

“Okay. Whatever.” Harry waves him off, closing his eyes.

“Well. I’ll leave you two to your thoughts, then.” Niall says; his cheeks still red from laughter and an apple in hand.

“Wait. I’ll go with you.” Liam glares at Harry and follows Niall to the door.

“You guys are shit friends, did you know that?” Harry snaps before they leave.

“We know,” Niall grins at him. “That’s why we stick together.”

Harry goes to say that doesn’t even make sense, but the door is already closed, so he just picks his things up and heads to Room 267.

Louis is sitting on the bed, alone. The TV is off and he’s literally just staring at the wall. Harry walks further into the room and hesitates for a second. This is harder than he thought it would be. “Um, hi, Louis.”

“Hey, Harry.” He says when he notices him. He’s got a calm look, but there’s something about it that makes Harry think it’s too _rehearsed._

When none of them say anything, Harry walks a little closer to the bed. “Listen, about yesterday…” He expects Louis to stop him and say something for himself, but he doesn’t. He just looks at him curiously. “That can’t ever happen again.” He says quickly.

Louis stares at the wall for about a minute, in which Harry awkwardly fidgets with his robes. “Harry, do you know why I accepted this treatment shit?” He asks, and it sounds rather aggressive to Harry.

He flinches a little before answering. “No.”

“Because I wanted to spend more time with you.” Louis says it, and it would have sounded like music to Harry’s ears, if it weren’t for the cold tone Louis uses.

“I, uh-”

“And I am putting up with this just because I wanted to spend more fucking time with you.” He shakes his head slowly, as if he doesn’t believe himself. “And this is what I get.” He says finally, his voice not quite quivering, but rough.

A few terribly long seconds of Harry not saying anything, just staring stupidly at Louis go by. “Um, I… I didn’t mean to…” He utterly has no idea what to say. “I didn’t know you accepted it because of me.” He mutters finally, aware that his cheeks are bright red right now.

“Then why the fuck would I want to stay here for ten more days, huh?” Louis snaps again.

Harry decides that he won’t take any of this. Louis is blaming it all on him, and he won’t take it. “You know what? I just came here to tell you that what happened yesterday can’t happen again, and I don’t know why you’re freaking out on me. I- ”

He is interrupted by a loud knock and someone barges in right afterwards. It’s Eleanor. Great. She walks into the room and looks from Louis to Harry. Louis’s eyes are huge and his mouth is hanging open. “Oh, hey, Dr. Styles.” She greets awkwardly, clearly confused by the scene.

Harry’s sure he still looks angry and embarrassed and what not. “H-hi.” He manages to say. “I was just telling Louis the next part of his treatment is tomorrow,” He shoots Louis an expressionless look. “So I’ll come pick you up.” He finishes. Eleanor nods slowly and walks closer to the other side of the bed.

“How’re you, babe?” She asks Louis, leaning in to kiss him. Harry’s gut literally flips; he can’t stay to see this.

Louis doesn’t reply, he’s still watching Harry’s every move. “I’ll see you later.” Harry mumbles and practically runs away from the room.

He heads to the cafeteria, stopping in the washroom to wash his face and maybe cry a little. When he gets there, Niall is chatting with some girl on a table. He walks over there and takes the third seat.

“Oh, hey mate!” Niall looks at him cheerfully. “This is Natasha.” He points at the girl on the other side of the circular table. “Natasha, this is he.”

Harry looks bewildered at Niall and then at the girl, Natasha. “By ‘he’, I’m guessing he means Harry.” He explains to the girl, who’s smiling sweetly at him. She’s got blonde, straight hair, and a perfect smile.

Niall and Natasha look at each other and giggle. “No, by ‘he’ I mean he. We’ve been talking about you, mate.” Niall says with a smug look. “Are you free tomorrow night?” He asks.

Harry, who is still pretty much dumbstruck about the whole situation (yes, including the _Louis issue._ ) stares blankly at Niall for what seems like hours before answering. “Uh, yes, I guess.”

“Okay, perfect!” Niall claps his hands pleased. “You two guys are going out to dinner tomorrow night.”

Harry goes to question him, but he notices the girl is looking at him with an excited grin, so he just smiles back and nods.

“I-I’ve got to go,” He gets out of his chair. “I’ll see you later, guys.”

But soon, Niall is also standing up. “I’ll go with you. See you, Natasha.” He flashes a smile and walks away with Harry following, not looking back.

When they’re out of the cafeteria, walking towards the main desk, Harry grabs Niall’s arm angrily. “Niall, what the f-”

“Um, Dr. Styles?” The voice of a girl cuts him off. He turns around, letting Niall go, to see Eleanor standing next to Louis’s room, the door closed behind her.

“Is something wrong with Louis?” He asks annoyed.

“Oh, no, no.” She shakes her head, walking closer to them. “I was just wondering if I could have a quick word with you?”

“Oh,” Harry glances Niall for a second, who’s looking at Eleanor as if she’s some ort of lost puppy. “Sure.” He turns towards Niall and glares at him. “Don’t you move from here, you fucktard.” He snaps at him, who just shrugs him off with a laugh.

Harry leads Eleanor to the other side of the main desk and gives her an expectant look. She looks confident when she starts speaking. “Look, I know there’s something going on between you and Louis.” Harry’s breath hitches. “But whatever it is, don’t pay attention to him. He’s a player, and I’m used to it, because at the end of the day he loves me, not any of his silly win overs. So I recommend you to back off. He’s just playing with you.” She’s got a dead serious look on her face.

Harry really sees no point in denying anything this time. “Um, okay?”

Eleanor smiles apologetically now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound rude. I’m just stating the facts.”

Harry’s trying to let the words sink in. “It’s okay. Thanks for the advice.” He says without even looking at her and walks away.

_He’s just playing with you._ He knows these words shouldn’t be affecting him as much as they are, but he can’t help it. He feels hot tears in his eyes, and he hurries to a washroom before anyone can see him.

 

***

 

It’s 2pm when Harry knocks on Louis’s door once again. He’s made sure his face doesn’t show any sign of crying, and he’s certainly made sure that as soon as he sees the blue-eyed boy’s face he won’t burst into tears again.

“Come in.” He hears from the other side of the door, so he swings the door open and walks in quickly.

“Hey, Louis.” He says without looking at him. “’You ready?” He surprises himself with how calm he sounds.

Louis nods and struggles to sit down with his legs hanging on the edge of the bed. Harry takes out the wheelchair and helps Louis get in it.

The walk to the Neurology Department is silent. He has tons of things to say to Louis, but he keeps his mouth shut, and so does the other boy. Harry’s calmly walking down the aisle when he sees that girl – Natalie, was her name? – Approaching him. He curses under his breath, and forces a smile on his face.

“Hey, Harry!” She greets cheerfully. She is really pretty, but really fake, too. She’s got too much make-up on and Harry’s pretty sure she’s made sure her boobs are peeking out of her uniform.

“Hey!” He tries his best to sound glad to see her.

“The dinner date is still on, right?” She asks, not even looking at the guy on the wheelchair once.

Harry wishes he could see Louis’s reaction, but he’s behind the chair, so he physically can’t. He can tell Louis is glaring up at – dammit, what’s her name?

“Yeah, sure. Um, I’ll make sure Niall gives me your address and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

She smiles brightly at him, nods, _winks,_ and leaves. That’s when Harry decides he definitely doesn’t like her.

As soon as she’s out of view, he continues pushing the wheelchair. After a few seconds of silence, he hears Louis’s voice. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that in front of me.” The voice is soft, but distant and cold.

Harry frowns, even though he knows Louis can’t see him. “Do what exactly?” He asks loudly.

“Flirting with that stupid bimbo.” Louis snaps. There’s no shame or anything else to his voice that isn’t annoyance. Louis is _jealous._

Harry smiles to himself. He gets some sort of feeling in his stomach that’s not exactly bad. He likes it actually. Louis is jealous of that girl. He keeps his composure, though. “What’s it to you if I flirt with her?” He asks coldly.

“I don’t like it.” Louis answers, this time sounding careless.

“Um, as long as I know, I can do whatever I want with people. It’s not like we’re together.”

Louis doesn’t reply and the rest of the walk to the department is as silent as can be.

Later that day, they are sitting on Harry’s couch. Niall is spread out on it, Harry on one arm and Liam on the other. They are watching _The Diary of Bridget Jones_ and Harry refuses to admit it’s one of the gayest movies on earth. Niall isn’t really watching; he’s texting and stuffing his mouth with popcorn, Liam is slowly drifting to sleep, and Harry’s eyes are on the screen but his mind is elsewhere.

He had believed Eleanor when she said Louis was a player. Why wouldn’t he? He had thought so himself when he first met the older boy. It was quite evident how Louis could get away with what he wanted. But people like Louis don’t get jealous. Especially when Harry’s supposed to be just some other guy he takes to bed or whatever. The thought makes Harry’s heart sink for about the third time today, and he ignores it.

“Guys, this movie sucks.” Niall says when they’re halfway through the movie. His phone is nowhere to be seen, and the popcorn bowl is empty.

Liam opens his eyes and looks from Niall to Harry to the TV. “It does.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Harry protests, but his voice is so weak it doesn’t cause any reaction. “Look, it’s Hugh Grant. He’s hot.”

Niall mumbles, “‘don’t care.”

And Liam silently agrees with Harry, drowsing again.

“What do you suggest then?”

None of them answers, so they watch the rest of the movie quietly. Well, Harry watches the rest of the movie. The other two whisper to each other until the credits appear on the screen. Niall sits bolt upright, “Oh, thank god!” He stretches. “Harry, mate, do you have beer?”

“You are not getting drunk, Niall.” Liam snaps, also seemingly awake now. “We have to work tomorrow.”

Niall waves them off and walks to the kitchen, opens the fridge and takes a can of beer out. “Do you guys want?”

“We have to _work_ tomorrow.” Harry insists, but Niall’s already opened the can and taking a huge sip.

“No,” Niall says in between sips. “Liam and I have to work tomorrow. You,” He points at Harry. “Have to babysit loverboy all fucking day long.”

Harry goes to counter, but Liam speaks up first. “It’s true, Harry. Davis fucking loves you, all you have to do is take care of Louis.” He says, sounding utterly jealous.

He would protest, but he knows it’s true. “It’s not like I ask for it.” He says softly.

Niall sits next to him, putting his legs on the table in front of him. “We’re not blaming you, mate. It’s just the way it is.” He stops it there, before the topic can become an argument and none of them is on the mood of quarreling.

“As soon as Louis is gone, I’ll ask Davis to send me to surgeries.” He says determinedly.

They stay quiet after that; mostly because they don’t feel much like talking. Harry can tell Liam is so incredibly tired, and Niall is unusually calm.

Harry’s half asleep when Liam says abruptly, “Remember that day you guys went out and I said I couldn’t go?”

Harry nods lazily, completely ignoring the fact that it was the day of the _incident_ , and Niall just glares a little. Liam takes that as a yes, and keeps going. “Well, I… uh, I was with Zayn that night.”

“What?” Harry’s almost too tired to look surprised, and so is Liam. He looks like it’s something important, but he physically can’t manage to speak clearly.

“I was with Zayn that night. Just thought I’d tell you. Now get over it and let’s move on.” He mutters and closes his eyes.

When Niall’s done with the beer, he cracks the can and throws it to the garbage. “So you two guys are like dating now, or?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Liam says and when neither of the other two replies, he makes himself comfortable on the couch. “’Night.” He mumbles and as quick as said, he’s already asleep.

Harry doesn’t know when they hanging out at his place became a sleepover, but they all end up sleeping on the couch, with a thick blanket covering the three of them and the TV still on.

 

***

 

It’s Wednesday at 4pm when the results of Louis’s second part of the treatment are ready. Harry has spent the whole day in the cafeteria and in the resting room playing _Angry Birds_ on his shitty phone because there’s literally nothing else to do. It’s not like he can go out and volunteer to help anyone. He tried once and Davis suspended him god knows why.

He checked on Louis in the morning and his sister was with him, so he left them alone. Louis had looked at him intently the whole time he had been in the room, but Harry hadn’t returned the looks, except when he told him that the results were ready today and the next part of the treatment was tomorrow. They literally made eye contact for about two seconds, and that was enough to make the back of Harry’s eyes fill with tears. He hated it. He hated being so stupidly sensitive when it came to these types of things. He was such a mess.

As for dinner with Natasha last night, it went horribly wrong. Well, not horribly. It was so incredibly _dull_ and Harry’s certain he has never in his life met someone so uninteresting. She talked about her friends and the hospital and how her ex had hurt her, and it just bored Harry to the point in which he excused himself to the bathroom and stayed there for about ten minutes before going back. When Niall asked about the date, the only compliment Harry could come up with was that she had good taste on food and later, he promised himself never to accept blind dates from Niall again.

Harry walks towards the Neurology Department after some nurse texts him that the results are ready. He’s not sure how people in the hospital manage to get his phone, but they do. When he gets there, an old nurse – Margaret, is it?- is printing some papers.

“Here you go, dear.” She hands them to Harry with a smile. He checks the nametag on her uniform.

“Thank you, Margaret.” He smiles and sits down on one of the chairs that are supposed to be for customers.

Most of the results show Louis’s nervous system is intact, except the last bit. Harry catches his breath for a second. The results show that the whole right side of his brain is working perfectly fine. The left part, on the other hand, has a slight brain damage that has possibilities spread out. It’s not a big deal, but it might require a small surgery. _Shit._

The thing about brain surgeries is that as small and insignificant as they can be, there’s still a chance of total brain damage if the doctor makes a tiny mistake.

So, all in all, the problem in Louis’s system is not really bad. It will affect his memory slightly, but nothing else. The _real_ problem would be if Dr. Barton, the head neurologist said he _needs_ the surgery.

He thinks of a way of telling Louis. He’s never been good at telling the patients bad news. Once, Davis made him tell a poor old woman that his husband hadn’t made it through the surgery. Let’s just say there were security guards involved.

When he’s mastered up the courage, he knocks on Louis’s room. He’s not going to be cold. How can he be with the news he has?

“Come in.” He hears a soft voice from the inside of the room.

Harry sincerely hopes Louis’s either alone, or with Zayn. If Eleanor is there, he’ll probably stutter out the news and leave running, which is definitely not a good impression to give to the patients.

He opens the door slowly and makes his way inside the room. Louis is alone. Unlike other times, he’s not playing with anything, or watching TV, he’s only sitting on the bed, with his back pressed against the frame. He looks at Harry with no expression on his face.

“Hey.” Harry almost whispers. The room is so quiet it makes him extremely uncomfortable.

Louis smiles a little bit, but there’s something off with it. It’s not a real smile, not even close. “Hi.”

“Um, your results are ready.” He motions to the papers on his hand.

“Yeah?” Louis asks. He doesn’t really look mad. He looks small, and just slightly curious, and _vulnerable._ “What does it say?”

Harry walks closer to him. “It’s not very good news, Louis.” He uses a soft, tender tone, but Louis’s eyes still grow wide.

“W-what do you mean not good news?” He looks up at Harry worriedly.

Harry takes a few steps, so he’s standing right in front of the bed. The lights are off, but the window is big enough to light up the whole room. Louis’s arm cast has been removed a few hours ago, but the cast on his leg will be there for quite a long time.

Louis looks more worried than Harry expected, which makes him want to hug him so tight it hurts. Instead, he shakes his head quickly. “Listen, Lou, about ninety percent of your brain is totally fine,” He explains softly. “It’s just this ten percent that shows slight damage.”

Louis nods agitatedly, but he doesn’t look any less preoccupied. “What type of damage? Is… is it permanent?”

“When you hit your head, your nervous system kind of _bounced_ , which made a part of the left side of your brain lose connection with the rest of it. This causes memory loss, and-”

The terrified look on Louis’s face makes him stop. “ _Memory loss?_ ” He repeats astounded.

“No, no, I’m so sorry, that came out completely wrong,” Harry quickly mends. “Your memory is not going to be as good as it was before this. It’s not like you won’t remember whet you had for dinner, no. What will happen is that some details of a memory will be a blur.”

“Okay,” Louis nods slowly, clearly relaxing a little bit. “Is there a way to avoid it?”

Here comes the hard part. “I – no. The damage is permanent. There is a possibility, however,” He stops for a second, making sure he says it right. “That a surgery is involved in order to-”

“A surgery?!” Louis cuts him off, practically yelling. “No, Harry, no, I can’t… No, I won’t, no…” He starts stuttering, mumbling and shaking his head, and this is exactly what Harry was dreading would happen.

“Lou, listen, it hasn’t been confirmed yet. The head neurologist has to evaluate your specific case and he’ll tell us.” He explains and he can’t help but reach for Louis’s cheek and stroke it softly, at least until he looks less terrified. “And even if it is necessary, it is a small surgery, it won’t take longer than an hour.”

“I know how brain surgeries can go, Harry.” Louis says more calmly, the fear in his eyes is still there, though. “I know they can go _extremely_ wrong.”

“It’s such a small chance, though. And in case it is necessary, I will be there with you the whole time.” Harry soothes, running his hand through Louis’s hair comfortingly.

“But you’re not the one _doing_ the job, are you?” Louis raises his head a little, looking at Harry skeptically.

“Well, no, because I’m not yet fully prepared to-”

“I don’t trust anyone else.” Louis interrupts quickly. “I know it sounds so diva-like or whatever, but you’re the only doctor I trust in this hospital, Harry, and I won’t let any other psycho literally inside my head.” He snaps, but he still looks so vulnerable.

“Lou, it hasn’t even been confirmed yet. Let’s not worry about it until Dr. Barton decides, yeah?” Harry thinks Louis is finally relaxing when he doesn’t say anything for a while, he just stares at the wall in front of him.

He is totally wrong, though, because soon enough Louis is looking him with those huge, terrified eyes again. “Harry, what the fuck have I done? Fuck, I’m so stupid. Zayn told me not to do it; he fucking told me it was dangerous. And, of course, I have to be so fucking stubborn and not listen to him and now look at me! My leg’s fucked up and I’m probably going to die in that stupid surgery, and I haven’t even done half the things I always wanted to do, and – just, look at me! I never even think of the consequences and I’m stuck, I haven’t even gone to college, and I’m supposed to be in love with a girl I don’t even…”

He stops suddenly, and Harry sees there are tears welling up in his eyes. His lips are shaking, and his cheeks are red again.

Harry takes a step closer and plays with Louis’s hair with one hand and cups his chin with the other. “Louis, look at me,” He pushes Louis’s chin a little bit so he’s looking at him directly in the eye. “Listen. You are probably the most reckless person I know, I’m not going to deny that. And, hell, you do risky things all the fucking time. So risky to the point that you might die, actually. But let me tell you something, you have made of your life what everyone is supposed to do with his or hers. You did what you wanted, and, yeah, maybe you’re not in the best circumstances right now, but since the day we went to that rooftop, I have felt like a fucking coward, because you are the bravest person I know, and if the surgery is necessary, you will be strong enough, and if you feel like you won’t, I’ll be there with you every passing minute of it.”

It’s only when he’s done that he realizes he’s panting and he’s so close to Louis’s face now. Louis is gaping at him, with his cheeks flustered. He’s about to back off, when Louis wraps both his arms around his neck suddenly and presses their lips together with such force it almost hurts.

This time it isn’t slow. It’s needy. Like they both missed each other’s lips so much they need to compensate for it right now. Louis doesn’t have to pull Harry closer, since his chest is already pressed against the little empty space of the bed. Between rough kisses, Louis scoots over to let Harry sit on the bed as well. They’re at the same level now. Louis is pressing soft kisses on Harry’s neck, while Harry’s lips move from Louis’s ear to his forehead, and it’s just so beautiful. Louis’s skin is soft and cold and he just feels like he needs to warm him up with his mouth.

Harry’s not sure for how long they just kiss each other everywhere from chest to foreheads, until they end up curled up in bed. It’s not easy to get comfortable because of Louis’s injured leg, but somehow they manage and they fall asleep just like that: One of Harry’s arm wrapped around Louis’s back, touching his arm, and the other around his front, holding him close, and Louis’s head practically shoved into Harry’s chest, both his arms wrapped around Harry’s body.

Harry can’t say it’s the best situation to be found by someone, but he can’t say he doesn’t love it either, so he doesn’t do a thing to stop it.

 

***

 

Harry wakes up to a tangled mess of limbs. His legs and Louis’s (the healthy one) are wrapped around each other’s. His arms are around Louis’s torso, and the older boy is curled up -his back to Harry’s head – his head resting on one of Harry’s arms. They must have moved little during the course of the night because he feels as warm as he felt when he had fallen asleep.

Louis’s hair is brushing slightly against Harry’s face, and Harry hopes it’s not too creepy to take in his smell: some sort of lime shampoo, he can tell.

Unfortunately for him, he’s not the one in charge of helping him in the shower or anything, so he hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing Louis naked, or lightly dressed.

He can feel Louis struggling to disentangle his legs and arms from him, so he allows. The older boy turns his body around so he’s now facing Harry. His hair is a usual mess (only this time it is from sleeping, not from carefully making it look like a mess himself), and his eyes are still drowsy from sleep. He smiles up at Harry and he returns the smile fondly. _How on earth can someone look so_ pretty _without even trying?_ He wonders to himself.

“’Morning.” Louis’s voice is raspy and rough, and it makes Harry’s dick twitch a little. It’s a soft voice, but right now it sounds so…dominant _._

“Good morning,” Harry replies after a moment. “’Sleep well?” He asks, still smiling down at the boy.

“Yeah,” Louis clears his throat, and now it is the soft that Harry loves so much. _Loves_. It sounds weird to Harry’s ears. He knows he doesn’t love Louis. He knows he would do pretty much anything for him (like risking his career, which is what he is doing at the exact moment, but Harry pushes the thought away), but he doesn’t love him. He’s just really fond of him. Still, he feels something in his stomach when Louis pecks him on the lips and carefully lifts himself up. “You?”

Harry does the same; he straightens up, but doesn’t get out of the bed. He knows he should, but this all seems so natural, it makes Harry wants to stay forever. “Never better.” He says finally.

They stay comfortably quiet for a moment. Harry looks down at the bed; they’re not exactly holding hands, but Louis is stroking his thumb softly on Harry’s. Then it moves to Harry’s wrist, and it takes only a few moments for Louis’s hand to be on Harry’s thigh. He’s wearing his uniform: a blue, plain shirt and loose pants of the same color. Harry’s breath hitches, as Louis’s hand gets teasingly closer to his cock. The older boy leans in and presses soft kisses on Harry’s neck, and then he slowly moves his lips to his jawline. He bites on a spot right in the middle of his collarbone, as his hands are still slightly touching Harry’s growing bulge.

When Louis bites on the same spot again, Harry lets out an embarrassing sound, and he has to bite his lips to keep quiet. Louis smirks up at him grabs Harry’s growing erection. He palms it once (to which Harry lets out a soft moan) and leaves it like that.

“I hate to say this, but you should probably go.” Louis says with a smug smile and it hits Harry like a freaking train. He can’t be serious.

Harry looks down at himself; he’s got a painful erection underneath his pants now.

“Fuck.” He curses quietly. “Lou, you c-can’t. I-I’ve got a… a f-freaking--”

“’Don’t want Dr. Davis walking in on us, do you now?” He sounds quite pleased with himself. Harry looks from Louis to his bulge, and back to Louis again. But Louis is still smiling innocently.

He’s about to protest when he feels his phone vibrate. He hasn’t even checked what time it is. Harry finally decides to do as Louis says, when he sees it’s 7:06am and he’s running late. “I hate you.” He glares at Louis and gets out of the bed.

Louis simply shrugs. “We both know you don’t.” He smiles sweetly. How can someone be so cruel? Just when Harry’s about to leave the room, Louis’s voice stops him. “Come back later so we can fix that little _issue_!”

Harry’s thankful he’s almost out of the room now, because he’s blushing bright red. He’s got bigger problems to worry about. He has to announce himself to Davis, talk to Dr. Barton about Louis’s surgery, but most of all, he has to get rid of this fucking boner.

 

***

 

It’s 1pm, when Harry walks exhaustedly to the resting room. Apparently, Davis realized Harry was working much less than the other interns, so he sent him to vaccinations. He’s spent the past four hours stuck in there with some intern he hasn’t ever talked to.

The lights are off and he can’t see anything in the room. “Fuck.” He hears a whimper and panting. He goes to turn them on, when he hears a gasp and then a crashing sound. “Don’t!”

It’s Liam.

He startles a little, and he reaches to the light switch. “Liam, what the-?”

“Don’t turn the lights on!” Liam practically yells.

Harry tries to make out his friend’s silhouette, but it’s useless. “Harry, could you please just get the fuck out?” It’s Zayn’s voice now, as agitated as Liam’s.

After two or three seconds, he puts the pieces together. “Oh,” He covers his eyes quickly, even though he couldn’t see anything if he didn’t. “Shit. Sorry guys. Uh, see you later.” He opens the door hurriedly, feeling his cheeks flush.

Just before he shuts it, he pokes his head inside, “That’s fucking disgusting, you two!” He whispers, but it comes out loudly. “People sleep in there, for god’s sake.” And he rushes out.

Harry’s tiredness is completely gone by the time he’s walking past the main desk, so he decides to go talk to Dr. Barton. He heads to the Neurology Department, where the doctor’s office is located. The intern knocks hesitantly.

“Come in.” Comes a voice from inside the room.

Harry pushes the door open, and walks in, clipboard in hand. The clipboard has never really been of any other use than avoiding awkward eye contact.

“Dr. Barton,” Harry takes a few steps deeper into the room. “How are you?”

Barton is one the only doctors that remain from when Harry’s father was in charge of the hospital. He’s always had some sort of soft spot for Harry. It was just because of his family, though, and it made Harry dislike Barton very much.

“Harry!” The old man, who’s sitting on a chair behind his desk, greets cheerfully. “Come with me, boy. I was just about to go to lunch.” He gestures for Harry to walk with him, who silently follows.

When they’re back to the main desk, heading to the cafeteria, Harry asks, before he’s stuck eating with him. “I came to check if you have already made a decision about my patient’s possible surgery?”

“Oh!” Barton stops. “Of course, my boy. I’ve made a decision.” He says, taking off his glasses and putting them on the pocket of his gown. “His room is right there, isn’t it? C’mon, then, we’ll tell him the good news.”

Harry doesn’t answer. Instead, he swallows hard; he wanted to go alone so they could finish the… thing that had happened earlier. He does feel a wave of excitement, though. Louis was so worried about the surgery, the last thing he would have wanted was for it to be necessary. Truth is, he probably wouldn’t even have been able to be there with him for the surgery, since Davis was the one who assigned that.

Davis knocked on Louis’s door, smiling behind his shoulder to Harry.

“Mr. Louis Tomlinson?” He directs himself to Louis when they’re inside the room.

“Yes, doctor?” Louis answers. He has a mischievous smile on his face. He isn’t looking at Harry, though, but his eyes narrow to him for a second when Barton pretends to check his clipboard. Apparently, it isn’t just him that does that.

“We’ve got very good news for you, sir.” Barton says, walking closer to Louis’s bed. It sounds weird to Harry’s ears that he’s talking to Louis so politely, as if he were some businessman. He has never referred to Louis as ‘sir’, or ‘mister’.  When Louis says nothing – he continues smiling as if he had just made the greatest plan or thievery – Barton goes on. “After closely examining your specific case, we have decided that the surgery is not necessary.” Louis’s eyes finally look directly onto Barton’s, and this time the smile is of utter happiness. “Your memory, nevertheless, will not be as good as it was before the accident. The treatment that you are currently going through will continue until it is completely made sure that the rest of your nervous system is intact.”

“Thank you so much, doctor.” Louis smiles brightly at him.

“Very well, then, I must be going now.” He spares Harry a look, and then goes back to Louis. “Have a nice day, sir.” He says and heads out of the room.

As soon as Barton is out of view, Louis smirks at Harry and he opens his mouth to say something when the doctor’s voice stops him.

“Harry, come here!” He sees Barton from outside Louis’s room. “Let your patient rest. There’s something important I want to talk to you about.”

“I’ll be there in a second, sir!” He looks back at Louis quickly and walks deeper into the room as fast as he can. “You still owe me something.” He whispers to Louis’s ear and without another glance, he leaves the room.

When he gets to Barton, he’s aware that he’s got a smile from ear to ear on his face so he forces himself to stop thinking about the beautiful boy in Room 267.

It’s about 4:30pm when Harry decides it’s time to go “check” on Louis. He hasn’t spoken to Liam since the _incident_ , and Niall is apparently sick – he knows he probably just made it up as an excuse to his hangover.

He walks happily from the resting room (thankfully empty this time) to the boy’s room. When he gets there, he debates whether he should knock – he doesn’t want to face Zayn after this morning – but he decides not to. If he’s going to talk to him about it, it might as well be with Louis with him.

He walks in the room to find something completely different. Eleanor is there. Harry can tell she was about to kiss Louis because she’s leaning really close to him, her butt at the very edge of the chair she’s sitting on.

As soon as Harry sees them, though he’s not sure if Louis pushes her away, or if Eleanor sits back willingly, but it happens very abruptly.  “Shit,” Harry curses under his breath. He’s too shocked to apologize, or leave the room, or to do anything a doctor in his right mind would do. He just stays there, looking (more like glaring) at Eleanor.

“Dr. Styles.” She’s the first one to speak. “I heard the good news.” She says, but it sounds too false to Harry’s ears.

“Yeah, we’re all glad he doesn’t have to go through that surgery.” Harry replies bitterly. He can feel jealousy all over him. She shouldn’t be allowed to touch his hair, or his lips, or any part of Louis. She shouldn’t even be allowed to call him his boyfriend.

Harry knows it’s all nonsense because she might be a good girlfriend for all he knows, but he still kind of hates her. Louis is suddenly very interested in his blankets. He doesn’t look at either of them.

Harry can tell Eleanor is expecting him to leave the room with an apology, but he’s far from doing that.

“Louis, your treatment continues tomorrow, and it’ll be a little harder than the previous ones. I strongly recommend you to rest.” He says, only looking at Louis, who is looking back hesitantly. He then turns to Eleanor. “As for you,” He tries to smile without it looking too sarcastic. “It is better for Louis to be left alone. You know, so he doesn’t have any one _distracting_ him from resting.”

Eleanor gives him a (very, very) little smile, as she grabs her purse. “Of course.” She grumbles at him, and then turns to Louis. “I’ll see you tomorrow, honey.” She says rather loudly, and then she pecks him on the lips.

Harry intently focuses on his clipboard and on his teeth biting his bottom lip, instead of whatever’s going on in front of him. He feels Eleanor walking next to him, when she stops suddenly and half-whispers on his ear. “Remember what I told you, Dr. Styles.” And then she’s gone, the door closing behind her.

As soon as she’s out of view from the corridor of the hospital, Harry locks the door quietly and turns to Louis, who is looking at him with huge eyes and shortly opens his mouth to speak. “I’m sorry about that.” He says shamefully.

Harry decides he’s too horny and needy to act mad at Louis, so he takes the three steps necessary to get to Louis’s bed. “As long as you know you’re mine, not hers.” He grunts and presses his lips against the other boy’s before he can say anything else.

The kiss is as needy as the one last night had been, maybe even more. He’s soon pushing his tongue inside’s Louis’s mouth, while he impatiently tugs on Louis’s shirt. He’s not exactly sure of what he wants to do to Louis first, but he certainly wants his clothes off.

Louis soon breaks the kiss, only to take off his shirt. “Fuck, you’re hot when you’re jealous.” He pants on Harry’s mouth before he’s crashing his lips hard against the other boy again.

Harry’s pulling Louis’s hair with one hand, and unzipping Louis’s jeans with the other. He kisses Louis on the lips one last time and starts going down with his mouth; kissing his collarbones, his chest, and licking both of his nipples until they’re hard. Louis lets out little moans every time Harry’s lips meet his skin, but he tries not to by biting his lip hard.

When Harry breaks contact between them to pulls Louis’s pants under his knees, Louis asks panting. “Wasn’t _I_ supposed to owe you something?”

Harry smirks up at him. “You did,” He motions for Louis to lift his hips up so he can pull down his jeans. “Until I saw you with her.”

Louis just lets out an inhuman sound at this, which makes Harry’s dick twitch. Louis’s erection is visible through his underwear, and Harry can feel his own growing in his pants. He decides to ignore it, though; right now he just wants to show Louis that he’s his and no one else’s.

He looks up at the other boy, who’s looking down at him with some sort of desperation in his eyes. Harry smirks a little and he kisses Louis’s boxers. The older boy can’t help but grind his hips upwards towards Harry’s mouth.

Harry pulls Louis’s underwear to his knees and grabs Louis’s dick before Louis can reach for it himself. He gives it a few lazy strokes, and smirks at Louis once again. He climbs himself up to Louis’s face and kisses him, but the older boy doesn’t kiss back at all. He just tries to push Harry so he’s facing his cock again.

Harry kind of wants Louis to beg for it, because he’s never really had that done to him before, so he kisses each of Louis’s hipbones, and looks up to see Louis panting. “Harry, please… just… yeah?”

“Please just what?” Harry grins, touching Louis’s dick.

“Shut up, I’m not begging you.” Louis snaps, but he’s still got that pleading look on his face, which makes Harry give up.

He licks the tip and hears Louis moan softly, pushing up his hips. Then he wraps his lips around the whole thing and goes as deep as possible. He’s done this just once, and he’s not really sure if he’s good at it, but Louis has got his eyes tight shut and his mouth hanging open, so he figures he’s doing fine.

He goes deep and back a few times, but soon Louis is fucking into his mouth, with both of his hands pulling hard on Harry’s hair. Louis is pushing up his hips quickly, but making sure he’s not hurting the other boy.

Harry just takes it in, even when he feels hot tears prickling in the back of his eyes, and he lets Louis have his moment. When he stops fucking into him, he starts deep throating him again, finally reaching up for his own erection, because it’s now painfully hard.

When Harry licks the tip again, he can taste the pre-cum, so he goes deep on him once more, until Louis is moaning Harry’s name loud enough for him to worry that someone outside can hear them, but it doesn’t matter, because the way he moans his name has got him coming all over his hands as he swallows hard, ignoring the taste.

“Fuck.” Louis mumbles looking more wrecked than Harry has ever seen him. His hair is all messed up from Harry’s tugging and he’s got sweat all over his forehead.

Without saying a word, Harry puts his pants back on and walks to the small bathroom of the room to grab some toilet paper and clean the mess they just made.

When he comes back, he leans in and kisses Louis on the cheek, with a huge smile on his face. “You still owe me one, though.” He whispers on the other boy’s ear.

Louis snorts but nods anyways. 

Harry sits on the chair next to the bed and Louis grabs his hand and keeps them like that. They stay like that for a while, both recovering from what just happened.

“Harry?” Louis says with that soft voice after a while.

Harry’s head is resting on Louis’s tummy and he doesn’t move when he answers. “Mhm?”

“Can I tell you something without you freaking out?” He asks, and it sounds a little bit hesitant.

This time, Harry does lift his head and looks at Louis in confusion. “Of course.” He reaches out to stroke Louis’s hair.

“I’m kind of in love with you since we went to that rooftop.” He blurts out.

Harry stops dead. He instantly breaks eye contact with Louis and stops stroking his hair. Shit shit shit. He can’t say it back, and it’s not because it’s not true, but because he doesn’t know. Maybe he is in love with him too. He’s never been in love, and he has no idea what it feels like. If being in love feels like getting all giddy whenever he pays him a compliment, or feeling – he won’t call them butterflies, he wont – _things_ in his stomach when he’s with him, and wanting to know every single little thing about him, and just needing to be with him when he’s not, then, yeah, maybe he’s in love. But how can he say it back without even knowing if it’s true?

If Niall were there, he would call him an overdramatic ass, and he would probably punch him on the balls, and maybe he’d be right to do so, because he is. He is an overdramatic ass times a million. He can’t help it, though, so he doesn’t do anything about it.

“Shit,” Louis’s voice snaps him back to the moment. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He looks so hesitant and nervous, not like his usual self. “That was stupid, just forget it, yeah?”

Harry takes a moment to reply. He doesn’t really know who’s more terrified, Louis or himself. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s just that… I’ve never really been in love, and I have no idea- Besides, Eleanor said these things about you, and I didn’t want to believe it, I didn’t, but what if she was right, and I was so scared of everything, I’m--”

“Harry,” Louis cuts him off gently. “Seriously let’s just forget-”

“No, no!” Harry goes on. “I don’t want to forget about it because I do want… whatever this is to happen, it’s just that-”

“I never said that.” And they seriously need to stop interrupting themselves. “Let’s just forget about the embarrassing part. Let me just put it out in words, um, do you wanna go out with me sometime?” He asks, his eyes huge. “When I’m out of here, of course.”

Harry opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “You’re with her, though.” He says lamely, and regrets it instantly.

Louis doesn’t look surprised, though. “I know,” He says a little too immediately. “I’ll break up with her.”

“No, no. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.” Harry says and he feels so stupid. He wants that. It may sound selfish as hell, but all he wants is to be with him.

“Harry, are you serious?” Louis laughs. “You won’t ruin _anything_ , literally. It’s all ruined already, and, for fuck’s sake, stop being so dramatic, I just really, really want to be with you.”

Harry feels himself smiling so big it hurts, but he doesn’t stop. “Then, yes, let’s go out sometime.” He answers slowly.

Louis beams up at him.

*** 

 

They’ve been in Louis’s room for about two hours, just talking. None of them has bothered to bring up the Eleanor Issue again, and they’re just talking about whatever comes to their minds. Right now, Louis is telling Harry about how he and Zayn saved money for two years to travel to South America, and it was the best trip Louis has ever had. Harry’s listening carefully; looking fondly at the boy sitting on the bed beside him.

Louis has had such a reckless life, and somehow it makes Harry want to have the same stories to share with him, but the furtherst he gets to is when he, Liam and Niall got so drunk they ended up trying to attack a cop and spent the night in jail. When he tells the story to Louis he makes it sound as fun as he can, but in reality that was probably the most stressful night he has ever had. They threatened to kick them out of the hospital. It was terrifying. He doesn’t tell this to Louis, though.

“It was the worst night of your life, wasn’t it?” Louis asks after laughing.

Harry stares for a second before shaking his head aggressively. “N-no, not at all. It was so much--” He stops talking when Louis gives him a pointed look. “It was the worst night of my life.” He admits defeated.

Louis laughs again. He’s sitting on the bed with a trey of food in front of him, but he hasn’t even touched the fork. Harry is lying on the chair, beside Louis’s bed. “Well you spent the night in jail. Even Zayn hasn’t done that.” And after that, Harry never, ever remembers that night with dreadful memories, but with the pride that he got to impress Louis for the first time, and not the other way around.

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but a knock on the door stops him. He jumps out of the chair immediately and lets out a muffled ‘come in’.

Fortunately, it is just Zayn. And Liam. They’re both smiling cheekily when they walk into the room and both, Louis and Harry exchange bewildered glances.

“Heeey!” Zayn greets and it just makes it more awkward than it was; at least for Harry.

“Hey,” Louis gives Zayn a questioning look, nodding towards Liam.

“Oh,” Harry cuts in. “Introductions.” He walks next to Liam. “Louis, this is Liam, I think you guys have seen each other, um…” And he trails off because they all know each other.

“Yeah, hi.” Liam waves a dismissive hand to Louis, who looks more than indignant. “Harry, we just wanted to, erm… apologize… about what happened… earlier.” He runs a hand through the back of his hair, avoiding eye contact.

“We didn’t think anyone would walk in.” Zayn adds, narrowing his eyes.

Harry shakes his head in disgust. “Right,” He says slowly. “As long as we don’t have to talk about it ever again.”

“Wait, I’m confused. I have no idea what you guys are talking about.” Louis says with a deep frown on his face.

None of them say anything.

Louis looks at them expectantly. “So?”

Liam clears his throat and Zayn takes a step closer to Louis’s bed. “Let’s just say we’re kind of… together now.” Even though he tries to sound uninterested, he’s beaming at Liam and he’s beaming back at him.

It’d be adorable if Harry hadn’t witnessed what he did.

Louis has his eyes wide and is looking at Zayn. “What?” He snaps. “Who’s this guy, anyways?” He basically spits, looking at Liam.

Harry decides it’s better if he doesn’t get involved, so he lets Liam walk a little closer to them all. “Uh, hi, I’m Liam.” He says sheepishly, clearly intimidated by Louis’s glare. Harry doesn’t get how he gets to intimidate people; he might seem so tough and cool, but he’s so _small_ and hesitant, and when you see his vulnerable part you can never see him as the tough guy he thinks he is.

“Well, Liam, you must be a nice guy, if this idiot here is interested.” Louis says matter-of-factly and then he tries on a threatening (really cute) expression. “If you ever hurt him, though, I will-”

“Shut up, Louis.” Zayn’s blushing, and Louis’s face goes back to indignant.

“I’m so profoundly sorry for trying to protect my best mate’s feelings!”

Both, Liam and Zayn grimace, while Harry’s sure he’s just looking at Louis as fondly as possible.

“You two should date.” Liam speaks loudly, pointing at Harry and Louis. “So dramatic.” He shakes his head and Zayn nods in agreement.

Harry can feel a deep blush on his cheeks, but Louis (even though he tries to snort, ends up _squealing_ ) is also blushing, so it’s fine.

They keep quiet for a minute, and then Liam and Zayn are whispering things to each other and giggling like little girls, and Harry is just looking at them with amusement. Louis’s disgust in plain in his face, but there’s also a tiny little bit of fondness in his stare.

“So, Harold,” Louis cuts Harry’s thoughts off. “When do you think I’ll be outta here so we can finally go out?” He asks.

“Um, I’m not sure, but about three days tops.”

“Great,” He claps his hands, though one of them is still bandaged. “You are going to bake something for me.”

He says, and Harry’s surprised he even remembers that he told him he liked to bake. “I barely even remember how to bake a cake.”

“I’ll help you, then.” Louis smiles sweetly. “I’m an excellent chef.”

Harry goes to say something, but Zayn’s voice cuts him off. “Don’t listen to him. He can’t even pour himself a glass of milk without spilling half of the box.”

Harry and Liam laugh, while Louis glares deadly at Zayn. “Fuck off, Malik.”

 

 

Epilogue

 

“C’mon, Styles! I wanna get out of here.” Niall’s voice breaks through the thin doors of the bathroom.

“Just a minute!” He shouts back. He makes sure his hair looks okay, and he straightens his blazer. He’s wearing the only pair of nice pants he’s got, a white button up shirt and a dark blue blazer on top. It’s probably the best outfit he’s got, and he only wears them for special events. This is one.

When he opens the door, he finds Liam and Niall waiting for him, each sitting on either side of a bench throwing little pieces of paper to each other. When Niall looks at him, he whistles. “What’s the special occasion?”

Harry would tell them, but he knows Niall can’t keep his mouth shut, and Liam would definitely call Zayn and he would call Louis and the whole plan would be ruined. “Nothing, let’s go.” He snaps a little too harshly, but the other two ignore it.

They walk out of the hospital together, feeling relieved that it’s Friday and if they’re lucky, Davis won’t make them work tomorrow.

When they step out of the hospital’s garage, Zayn is waiting for Liam next to his car. “Oh,” Niall nudges Liam’s arm. “Mr. Lovebites is here to pick us up, how sweet of him.”

Liam doesn’t answer. He’s already ahead of them, walking towards Zayn and pecking him on the lips. “Hey, babe.” Zayn greets softly and pushes the door of the car open for Liam. “My place?” He asks.

“Mhm.” Liam answers and gets inside the car. “Let’s get out of here before Niall joins us.” He says loudly, so Niall can hear.

“Oi!” He shouts. “I heard that, you fucker.”

Zayn laughs. “’Sup Harry?” He looks at the curly boy, who’s too distracted to hear him. He has to make sure everything goes as planned tonight.

“This guy’s too in love for his own good.” Zayn chuckles. “Sorry, Niall, mate. I’ll give you a ride next time.”

“Whatever.”

And then Zayn and Liam are gone.

“Hey, I’ve got a party tonight. You coming?” Niall shoves Harry, almost making him fall.

“Sorry, mate, I’ve got plans tonight.” He says automatically.

Niall snorts. “I really need to get myself a girlfriend.”

 

***

 

“Harold Edward Styles, you better tell me where you’re taking me or I’ll fucking m-”

“Woah,” Harry cuts him off, slapping a hand on Louis’s mouth. He’s got his eyes covered with one of Harry’s bandanas, and Harry’s leading him. “We’re here.”

“Good.” Louis says, pretending to be annoyed but he’s grinning. “Can I take this off now?”

“No.” Harry answers and presses his lips against Louis’s before he can protest. He just got off his crutches two days ago, and he still limps a little when he walks.

Harry leads them slowly towards the door of the restaurant and whispers his name to the waitress. “Follow me.” She says when she’s checked up the reservations and guides them towards the balcony.

“Have a nice dinner, Mr. Styles.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at the waitress and then looks at Louis, who’s just standing next to him with no clue of where they are.

“Alright, Harry. You made me dress nice, when all I wanted to wear were sweat pants and no shirt. Maybe even no sweat pants, and no underwear. I wanted to _fuck_ , Harry.” He complains softly now, gripping Harry’s hand.

Harry laughs. He looks at his surroundings. They’re the only people in the balcony; he made the reservations about three weeks ago. It’s so pretty. They’re in a point where they can see the whole city in front of them, and further than that. They can even see the landscapes that surround the city, and it’s so beautiful. “Okay, you can take it off now.” He says finally.

Louis obeys and takes the bandana off. He blinks a little bit to get used to the light. Adorable.

He gapes at the view in front of him for a few seconds. “Harry, what-”

“Do you like it?” Harry lets the excitement in his voice show.

“Of course I like it, it’s beautiful.” He gasps. “But what-”

“Happy six months.” He grins at Louis and waits for a reaction.

Louis just gapes at the view, and then back at him. And he looks like he wants to say something, but he shuts his mouth and after a few seconds, he opens it again. “You’re a cheesy fucker.” And that’s _exactly_ what Harry was waiting for. He smiles widely at him. Louis walks close to him and presses his forehead against the other boy. “I love you.”

And this time Harry doesn’t even hesitate. “I love you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, this is my first one shot published. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm sorry if I made you waste your time reading this.  
> The title is from A Day To Remember's song. It's basically a lot of fluff, and I wanted to portray the boys just like I imagine them in real life.  
> Thank you so much for reading!


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